Nine to Five
by Goldylokz
Summary: Rogue is faced with an antimutant mob & somehow winds up getting a job at a music store. And with Magneto out of town, Bayville gets painted red and Rogue has some frequent visitors at the store. Romy, Jonda with a hint of Kiotr.
1. Franchises are the Devil

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/marvel characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down.

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**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter One - Franchises are the Devil**

Bells jingled as two very contrasting girls walked into the small independently owned music store together.

"I, like, don't understand why you insist on buying CD's only from this place, Rogue," the Chicago-born valley girl said.

"This place has character, unlike those identical, conformist chain stores ya shop in," the other, a southern goth with the stunk striped auburn hair, replied. "Plus they have a wide range of used CD's an' some local stuff. Franchised music stores ain't got a clue 'bout good music; they just buy what everyone else's buyin'."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Rogue. Franchises are not the devil, just familiar and convenient."

"Well then Ah'm gonna add a little change in your life and hopefully steer ya away from some of your conformist tendencies and get ya ta invest some o' your parents allowance into small businesses that actually need the money," Rogue orated. Kitty rolled her eyes again, but this time stayed silent.

The owner of the store, Jamal Collins, was at the cash register. He smiled to himself at the sight. The goth came in a couple times a month, each time with a different friend, trying to convince them to shun the big corporations and get their own mind. "She might get this one to become a regular," he thought. He liked her: she had spunk. But there always seemed to be something that kept her at a distance from her friends and other customers. At first he thought it was because she was a goth and in Bayville those are rare. But now he doesn't think that it because she doesn't feel she belongs, its something else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Rogue led Kitty into the more mainstream rock section. She fingered through a couple CD's and came across a record she thought Kitty might like. "Here, Kitty. Ah think ya'll like this one. Yah, they're a group from the late 80's, early '90's. Good for that kinda music. They weren't make up by some big music company or by a "reality" TV show, but ya might give 'em a chance."

"What you expect me to, like, buy it 'cause you think I might like it? Besides this one's already been open." Kitty put it back on the shelf like it was some dirty sock.

Now it's Rogue's turn to roll her eyes. She picked the CD back up and handed it back to Kitty. "This is a used CD store. People sell CD's to this place and they recycle them by selling them ta others. Reduce the waste o' the material world, sugah."

"Like, if this CD's so good than why did someone sell it back?" Kitty retorted, refusing to be converted.

"Ah dunna know, probably on crack o' somethin'," Rogue added sarcastically. Rogue put her arm around her Carson Daly brainwashed friend, being careful not to touch her skin, and ushered her toward the listening station near the window, "Now, why don't ya go over there an' listen it an' prove mah wrong."

Kitty looked suspiciously at the CD player and headphones. "It looks like a normal CD player."

"Oh, hail the observant one," the Goth sarcastically replied.

"What, you mean I can actually hear, like the whole CD before I buy it? Not just certain tracks or snippets of the songs?" Kitty asked with an inconceivable expression on her face.

Rogue smiled, _Kitty's gonna like this place_. "Yah, real nice here, ain't they?"

"Serious?! This _totally_ rocks!!" Kitty sat down and started adjusting the headphones.

Rogue grinned, a successful conversion, finally. Rogue moved toward the owner, Jamal. "It's good to see one of your friends actually enjoy it here," Jamal told the Goth.

"Yah. Say, did ya have any good hard rock stuff come through here lately?" Rogue asked.

"I believe a Nine Inch Nails CD came my way. Oh and I did get a few of The Clash and Led Zeppelin you might like. They're over in the used new arrivals."

"Ah'll take a look. Thanks." Rogue turned and headed toward the right side of the store. She stopped dead in her tracks in seeing three familiar trouble-making figures loitering in the store. The crazy fire boy was fingering the posters, the Cajun, his red on black eyes covered conspicuously with dark sunglasses, was leafing through some local music, and the stocky one who turned into sheet metal looked about as bored and awkward as an armadillo just standing there. Rogue planted her feet, popped out a hip, and put her hands on her hips. "Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. What are Magneto's lackeys doin' here. Ain't yal supposed ta be plottin' ta take over o' the world or somethin'?"

They were all surprised at seeing their "enemy" standing there. The Cajun regained his cool quickly and spoke first. "Why, chere, is it some sort of crime dat we be relaxin' in dis fine establishment on our day off?" He flashed that know-it-all smile Rogue remembered from their first battle.

Rogue looked the Cajun right in the eyes..er..sunglasses and, undaunted by his charm, replied, "No, no crime, 'cept ah'd expect ya'd have cooler places ta be than Bayville."

Not losing a beat, Gambit took a step closer to Rogue and said, "I'll will go where ever de belle wishes."

An mischievous smile emerged on Rogue's face. She got so close to Gambit that she could feel his breath on her face. The other two of Magneto's henchmen watched intensely. Rogue spoke softly, mesmerizing the boy. "Ya know what ah really wish?" Rogue ran a gloved finger across his chest. "Ah wish THAT YA GET OUTTA MY WAY, SWAMP RAT!" She shoved Gambit into the shelves and strutted around him toward the used CDs.

Gambit fell to the floor, completely awestruck with what just happened. Pyro and Colossus burst out into laughter. "Remy, burnt by a Sheila!!! I'd never thought I'd see the day!"

Colossus laughed. "I am happy I rose from bed to see this!"

Gambit growled. "Shut-up."

Kitty heard the commotion over the music in her headphones and wondered over to Rogue and the others. "Hey, like, what's going on -" She gasped at seeing the Acolytes and went into a defensive battle position.

"Calm down, Kitty," Rogue reassured her friend. "There's no need ta get all riled up for - "

Just then a group of about ten people stormed into the store with picket signs and violent looks on their faces. "Mutie lover!!" "You let the abominations shop in your store!" "You're no better than a mutant!"

The mob approached the owner, Jamal, who backed away from the counter toward the wall. " I don't want any trouble here, boys. I only sell to music lovers. If you're not here for music then I suggest you leave."

"Not 'til you stop selling to muties!!" said the self-appointed leader of the group. The others shouted in agreement.

"Enough of dis shit," Gambit muttered as he charged up a card and the Acolytes followed him to the mob. "I think you'd better leave de good businessman alone, homme. If you wanna leave here in one piece, dat is." Colossus converted to his metal form, and Pyro pulled out his lighter and held a fireball in his hands.

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Is it any good?

Let me know.


	2. Pushing Buttons

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/marvel characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down.

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**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Two - Pushing Buttons  
**

"You threatening us, mutie?" said the African-American who appeared second in command.

"Do you not understand a threat, flatscan?" Remy shot back.

Things were going to go down in the little CD shop. Rogue looked at the frightened Jamal. Feed up with the testosterone pre-fight Rogue shouted, "Would yal all just back off!!!" She stepped in between the Acolytes and the mob, separating Remy and the leader.

"I suggest you two girls leave this place before you get hurt," the mob leader said. "These muties don't look after the innocents."

Rogue stayed put. "No, bystander mutie meh is just tryin' ta keep your guilty, intolerant ass from getting plummeted."

"Mutants!! They're everywhere!!!" A few men tried to grab ahold of Kitty, but they fell right through her. Others tried to do the same to Rogue, but she kicked the lead in the stomach with her combat boot.

"Nuh-huh. Don't touch," Rogue warned. "Not unless ya wanna end up in a coma. Touch mah skin and that's what you'll get." Rogue ripped off her purple sweater and leather gloves. "Most days ah'd welcome ya getting your just desserts by touchin' meh, but ah don't feel like it today."

The mob hesitated to attack again. Rogue blew a stray white hair out of her face and rolled her eyes at the group. "Ah mean, come on. Who are ya foolin'? You're black!" She nodded toward the man who appeared to be second in command. "Doesn't this whole discrimination thing remind ya little of the fifties? Too bad we skipped the whole segregation phase. 'Mutants use the side door' signs and the like." The man paused, finally realizing where exactly he was and what he was doing.

"An' did ya, Brian," Rogue asked the Jewish guy in her math class, "ever dream that ya would be leadin' a holocast instead of bein' a victim of one like your great grandparents? Bet they'd be proud." Rogue stopped there and smiled. She noticed a few of the crowd were having epiphanies, but not all.

"Mutants are dangerous!! They'll kill us all in our sleeps!" One of the unenlightened ones shouted.

"That's right, sugah. Mutants are dangerous, ta themselves, ta others..." Rogue looked at her hands. "But normals are too or did yal come in here to invite these boys to a sleepover?" Silence came over the store. "Ah don't go lookin' for trouble, got enough o' mah own problems. So why don't yal march your Nazi asses outta here an' let meh deal with mah own problems!"

The leader still wasn't convinced. "She's trying to trick us. She wants us to let our guard down so she can kill us all!"

"Hon, if ah really wanted ya dead, ah woulda let these boys here fry yal. It woulda saved me a lotta time."

"Your words won't infect my mind!" the leader cried. "Come on guys, enough talk." With that the leader turned around to signal to the others to start trashing the place, then he realized that no one was there. The last of the crowd was just disappearing outside the door, having lost the feeling of blind hatred for the time being.

"You're right, sugah. Ah can't change your mind if ya ain't got one."

The leader fumed. "This isn't over, freak!!" The man ran out of the store as fast as he could.

Rogue continued to stand there, frozen. "Rogue," Kitty came up behind her. "Are you okay?"

"Yah, Kitty," Rogue's face remained stoic as ever. "Just a little tired. Ya ready to go?"

"Sure, Rogue, I, like, have to pay for these." Kitty carried a pile of CD's up to the counter.

Again of the Acolytes, Gambit was the first to speak. "Chere, I never seen anythin' like dat happen."

"Well, swamp rat, ya just gotta know what buttons ta push."

Gambit flashed her a mischievous grin. "You can push my buttons anytime, chere."

"Do ya have a mute button? That would come in real handy," Rogue responded.

The other Acolytes burst out into laughter again. "That is two, Remy! I like you, Rogue, is your name?" Colossus spoke with his Russian accent. "My name is Piotr Rasputan, but my English friends call me Peter." Colossus held out his large hand, and Rogue took it.

Something came over Rogue and she decided to lay a little charm of her own. "Peter, nice ta meet ya. Ya know, ah always like 'em tall, dark and Russian (1)." Rogue flashed the same sly smile as before and both Peter and Gambit turned red: Peter from embarrassment and Gambit from jealousy.

Kitty approached the group again. "Okay, Rogue, I'm ready to go." The two started to walk out the door and Rogue turned back and waved. "See ya later boys."

"Rogue wait!" Rogue and Kitty turned around to see Jamal signaling them back into the store.

"Yah?" Rogue inquired.

Jamal responded, "I really like the way you handled that mob before and wondered if you wanted a job here."

"What?! After what just happened an' with that guy just threatenin' me an' all..." Rogue replied in amazement.

"Yes."

Rogue pondered the offer. She would like the extra money, she hated depending on the Professor to provide her with cash for clothes and music and such... _where does the Prof come up with all his money anyway. Maybe there's some money trees in the orchard that ah haven't found yet..._ Rogue looks back up at Jamal puts one hand on her hip and with the other points to a speaker, "Do ah getta pick what kinda music plays in here?"

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(1) Line from the cartoon _X-Men: The Animated Series_, the episode with the Juggernaut.


	3. Cheeseburgers and Sugar Daddies

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/marvel characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down.

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****

NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Three - Cheeseburgers and Sugar Daddies 

In downtown Bayville, three men walked away from the music store Vinyl Vintage. One was bounding restlessly from one side of the sidewalk to the other, laughing loudly and occasionally hitting the tall, dark haired one with the sunglasses. The third guy, built like a brick house, quietly walked next to the one with the sunglasses.

St. John Allerdyce now walked along the right side of Remy LeBeau, still laughing hysterically. "You're losin' your touch, mate!" John slapped Remy on the back. "After all the numbers you got from the artsy Sheilas when we picked up Petey from the art store, I was beginning to think you had some sorta 'charming' power but now...HA HA HA HA HA."

The Cajun shoved the hyperactive Aussie toward the street, "Do ya ever shut up? Geez, you sound like some frickin' laughin' hyena."

John made a puppy face. "Oh, you poor little Cajun. Did you get burned by the pretty little X-geek? Poor baby."

Remy lunged at him again, but missed as his prey ran ahead toward a brightly lit diner. "I'm starved, lets grab a bite."

Remy and the reserved Piotr Rasputin followed St. John into the diner and they all sat down in a booth by the window.

"Why don' ya stop raggin' on me, St. John-boy," Remy addressed his teamate. "Petey here's da one wit' da new girlfriend."

"But I teased Petey all afternoon," John explained. "Share the wealth, Cajun. Besides, I think Petey here has his eye on a different X-geek." Piotr blushed and John started poking him. "Don't ya, Petey. I saw you staring at the sprite from the time she first walked in."

Piotr blushed even harder. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"So da man o' steel likes de petite over de goth," the playboy Remy mused.

"Rogue is a little, how do you say it, overbearing," Piotr tried to avert the conversation away from himself.

It didn't work. "But dat's half da fun, mon ami," Remy replied. "You like your women sweet an' i like 'em wit' a little sauce. So...when you gonna ask da petite out, homme?"

The shy Russian was saved from a response by the waitress coming to take their order. "What will you boys like?"

"I'll have a cheeseburger and some chips along with a soda," John said. Remy realized the Aussie didn't realize what he truly ordered and almost asked but then thought better of it. _It'll be more fun dis way._

"I'll have some hot 'n spicy chicken wings 'n some french fries wit' a coke, mon belle femme," the Cajun ordered with a smile. The waitress blushed slightly.

"I would like a BLT and fries and a coke..oh and a banana split," the Russian smiled imagining the ice cream melt in his mouth.

"Alright boys, I'll be back in a jiffy." The waitress spun around and strutted back to the kitchen, knowing the Cajun was checking her out.

Remy had gathered ten phone numbers that day, soon to be eleven if all went well with the waitress, but he only had one girl on his mind and it showed. "Now dat femme Remy understands, but de southern belle..."

St. John picked up on it. "Am I sensing a little more than flirtation with the Goth on Remy's part? I think so!" He laughed.

Remy ignored him. "So Petey, when are you gonna ask de petite out?"

Piotr blushed again. "I have never talked to her before. Also I think she has a boyfriend, the earth shaker boy from Magento's other group."

"Do ya mean dat puny little homme wit' the temper tantrums? Avalanche, I think." Remy assured his friend, "I know what dat kinda femme likes, an' if she met you an' your artsy, sensitive self, she would forget all about de other boy."

Piotr looked up hopefully. "Do you really think so?"

"Wouldn' say so if I didn', mon ami."

"And what about me, matchmaker Remy?" St. John inquired. "What kind of girl would be into me? Sweet, sour..?"

Remy looked John up and down and declared, "A crazy one."

The boy did not get the chance to hurt the male yenta for his insult, because their conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing the food. Piotr dug right in while Remy waited for Johnny-boy's reaction to his American cheeseburger and chips.

"This isn't my food," St. John told the waitress. Remy smiled.

"I'm sorry, I thought you ordered a cheeseburger and chips," the waitress said apologetically.

"I did," Pyro said. He opened his cheeseburger. "Where's the beet! And what in the blazes are these?" John fingered the potato chips and then dropped them back on the plate.

The waitress gave him a blank stare. "'Where's the_ beef_?' I guarantee that that is great A cow right there."

"Not the beef. Are you deaf, Sheila?" John fumed. "Where's the bloody beet?!"

"Who the hell is Sheila? Can't you read? My name is Diane. And I'm sorry that you lost your beat, but I hope you find it someday, along with your marbles."

The waitress turned to leave but Remy grabbed her arm. "I'm sorry, belle, please come back. My friend here is non too familiar with American food yet." The waitress raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Ya see, belle, dese crazy Australian's don' put beef patties on deir cheeseburgers, dey seem ta think dat beets, yes, dose gross, red canned things, go on cheeseburgers. Dey also call french fries chips instead. Crazy chaps, I think it's all de sun." Remy tapped the side of his head. "It fries da brain."

"You bloody Cajun! I'm gonna fry your brains!" The firebug reached into his pocket to grab his lighter but found it missing.

"Looking for dis, mon ami." Waving John's lighter in front of his face, Remy taunted him. John reached for it, but Remy pulled it away. "Nah, ah, ah. You first apologize to da belle."

Pyro sat down and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Now, belle, would you mind gettin' my humbled friend here some french fries an' if ya could find a beet in da back dat would be nice."

"Sure, handsome, anything you say." The waitress disappeared into the kitchen to find a beet.

* * *

With stomaches full of greasy foods, the three henchmen pulled into their boss's new "Top Secret Headquarters." The were surprised to find Magento attempting to back up a small semi-truck to a side door of the base. They watched stealthily from the vehicle for several minutes as he ground the gears and hopped out to see how close he was to the building, then hop back into the cab to readjust the vehicle.

"Why doesn't he use his powers?" John whispered to the other two who shrugged. Magneto finally turned off the engine of the big rig and glanced in the direction of the vehicle. All three ducked down in their seats. "Think he saw us?" They knew he had when the doors opened by themselves.

Magneto burst from the back of the truck carrying a large brown box. "Excellent, you are back. Now unload these boxes and put them in my study."

"What is in the boxes, boss?" Piotr asked while picking up two boxes, one for each shoulder.

"Nothing you should concern yourself with, boy," Magneto huffed.

"Okkkkaaaaayyy, I better be getting paid for this labor," he mumbled

The truck was almost all unloaded when Piotr had the brilliant idea of carrying a third box on his head. The results were predictable: The box and its contains spilled out onto the asphalt.

Remy pick up one of the objects and studied it, bewildered. "What in de world would Magneto want wit' a truckload of Etch-a-sketches? I mean, I knew dat he was de crazy take-over-da-world kinda guy, but what kinda evil plot does he have involving these?"

"Maybe he's gonna torture the X-geeks with them. You know, make them spend hours drawing something and the second they set it down, drop it and make them do it all over again. Or give them each one and tell them it's a new laptop and they have to decipher it before the whole city explodes!" the crazy pyromaniac speculated.

Piotr and Remy stared at John like he was a crack monkey. The Cajun faced the other sane one. "Oui, only a crazy femme would fall for John-Boy."

Again, St. John did not get to defend himself, because Magneto came out and saw the mess.

"I ask you boys to do one simple thing, unload the truck, and you can't even do that right," Magneto yelled. "And I thought you were more talented than the Brotherhood."

"Pardon, my askin', but Magneto," Remy said, "why do you need a truckload of Etch-a-sketches?"

"For my work, of course," Magneto said as-matter-of-factly. "What, do you think all of my secret hideouts and capes and your paychecks fall out of the sky?"

"No," the three said simultaneously but keeping the confused looks on their faces.

Magneto sighed. "I draw pictures in the Etch-a-sketches, take out the insides and then sell them as art."The Acolytes were stunned and silent. "At least my occupation has a little more dignity than Charles's," Magneto retorted.

"Why? What does he do?" one of the Acolytes was silly enough to ask.

* * *

At Xaxier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Rogue stood outside Professor Xavier's office, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to another. _Ah hope Xavier isn' gonna be upset that ah took the job. Ah'm not gonna be able ta do trainin' sessions after school everyday, ah hope that's not a big deal. Why can' he get off the phone already so ah can tell 'em. 'kay, Rogue, calm down. The job is a great opportunity for ya, an' it'll help teach ya responsibility an' independence, blah, blah, blah...Ah hope ah sound more convincin' ta the Prof than ah do ta mahself._

Rogue heard the phone hang up inside the room, and the professor called out, "You may come in now, Rogue."

_Well here goes nothin',_ Rogue thought as she pushed open the door.

"Hello, Professor. Well...today...see," Rogue stammered. _Why am ah so nervous? This is mah life an' ah gotta job. Ah'm not a little girl, ah made my own decision._ "Professor ah was offered a job at this music store, an' ah accepted it." _There. That was easy._

Professor remained thoughtful for a moment and then asked, "Are you sure that that is wise, Rogue? I don't expect you to dwindle in your school work or training. Are you sure you can balance that sort of workload? Plus with all the anti-mutant hysteria flaring up lately, it might be dangerous for you and your employer."

"But Professor, he knows ah'm a mutant. There was kinda an episode there today while ah was shopping, an' that's part o' the reason he wants me ta work there. He liked the way ah handled the situation, all non-violent and such." Rogue babbled trying to defend her decision.

The Professor gave her one of his 'I'm still not convinced' looks.

"Ah can totally handle it, Professor. Ah'm only workin' after school three days a week an' every other weekend, an' if it's slow, Jamal said ah can work on mah homework there. Ah can have mah trainin' sessions in the mornin' if that's alrigh' with Logan an' ya don't have ta give me any sort o' allowance anymore 'cause ah'll be working," Rogue continued to defend her cause.

The professor's expression did not change.

Rogue broke down. "Please, professor, ah promise that if mah grades suffer, ah'll cut back on mah hours."

The professor continued to glare.

"Alrigh', alrigh', if mah grades slip ah'll quit."

The professor's expression lightened. "Since your heart seems set on working, Rogue, we can try it out for a while." A huge grin appeared on Rogue's face, and she had to restrain herself from acting like Kitty and jumping up and down. "Rogue," the professor continued, "I do hope that you did not accept this opportunity purely for financial reasons. Supplying you with an allowance has never been a problem."

"No, professor, but ah would like more financial freedom an' independence. Besides, ya can't be givin' all o' us kids money for the whole time we be here, can ya?"

"With my business, I very well could, so don't worry, Rogue, if this job doesn't work out."

Rogue turned to leave when one little question popped in her head that she'd later regret asking. "Professor.."

"Yes, Rogue," the Prof replied.

"Ah hope ya don't mind me askin' but where does all your money come from? Ah mean, if it was all inherited..."

"Oh no, Rogue," the professor chuckled. "My inheritance built the school but I do have a steady source of income to keep it going."

Rogue noticed how the professor sidestepped the question. "What is your steady source o' income?"

"Well, Rogue, as a matter of fact, I own a 1-900 number," the professor started then noticed the shocked look on Rogue's face. He chuckled. "No, Rogue, a psychic hotline."

A great relief fell over Rogue's face. "Yah mean people call ya an' ya use your psychic powers..."

"No, Rogue," the prof interrupted, "I don't use my powers to predict people's futures." Rogue's face showed confusion once again. The professor continued, "I use the stars and the movement of planets and the moon to make predictions. Here let me show you."

The professor wheeled himself behind his desk and hit a small button on the underside of the desk that Rogue had always assumed was some sort of security alarm. The lights in the room went dark and a pedestal rose from the floor in the center of the room. On it was some sort of rotating ball. The pedestal stopped moving upwards and the ball lit up. It projected an image of the night sky onto the ceiling.

"I grew up in the 60's and 70's and this was common back then..." Rogue's jaw dropped, and she stood in shock as the Professor rolled across the room, pulling down various zodiac and constellation charts that he had hidden behind the blinds, all the while explaining how the alignments of planets and your birthday affected your personality and your life path. Rogue couldn't stop thinking _Ah wonder what the hell he was smokin' back then...hell, ah wonder what he's on now..._.

The Professor went on talking for about thirty minutes before Rogue brought herself back to reality...err...consciousness. "Professor X," she interrupted.

The Professor jumped slightly at the interruption. "Yes, Rogue."

"Ah don't mean ta cut ya off or anythin', Professor," Rogue lied, "but that homework we were talkin' 'bout earlier is sittin' in mah room an' ah don't wanna get behind even before ah start mah job."

"Oh, OH, of course Rogue, you're dismissed." Rogue turned to leave and had almost reached her freedom when the Professor spoke once again. "Rogue, I'd appreciate it if you did not mention this to the other instructors or students. I have a feeling that this might effect my credibility to unopen minds."

"Sure professor," Rogue responded and ran out of the room. _Ah don't think ah'll ever be able ta look at him with a straight face ever again._

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Don't worry the next chapter will have more substance to it...I hope or it's gonna take me a really long time to write this story if I get sidetracked like this all the time. Thanks for your reviews.


	4. You Smell Like Gumbo

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/marvel characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. I mention some music groups and songs here, don't own them either. I made up a name for the store, have no idea whether there is a place with the same name or not, if so sorry. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down.

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**  
NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Four - You smell like Gumbo**

Two weeks passed since Jamal had offered Rogue a job at his used CD store, Vinyl Vintage. The past few weeks she had been in training, working with and meeting the other employees. It was now Monday afternoon, 2:50pm, and Rogue entered the doors to her first solo day of work.

"Hey ya, Sly," Rogue greeted the punk guy with the spiked hair, multiple piercings, wearing the Green Day shirt, a loose tie, and brown corduroys who was working behind the counter.

"Hey, Rogue, right?" Sly replied and looked at one of his three watches. "Little early today; your first day alone, no more training?" Rogue nodded. "Don't worry, your punctual enthusiasm will fade in time and then you will become one of us." And with that strange comment, he grabbed his bag and went into the back room and punched out. "Later, Rogue."

_Whoa, 'kay. At least he didn' go on talkin' 'bout mullets today._ And with that thought, Rogue punched in and set her stuff down behind the counter.

She pulled a Queen CD out of her backpack and popped the classic in and pressed play. Rogue sat down on the bar stool behind the register and looked around. There were two customers in the store, one at a listening station, the other browsing, both regulars.

"Hey hon," Rogue addressed the browsing customer, a boy about eleven years old, "ya need any help findin' anythin'?"

The boy replied, "Nope, just trying to decide the best way to blow ten dollars: Lucky Boys Confusion or Mustard Plug?"

"Your right, ah can't help ya there. Ah'm not big inta ska. But if there's anythin' ah can help ya with, ya know where ah'll be." Rogue walked back to the counter and grabbed a crate of unpriced CD's and a price gun.

Three house later, Rogue laid her head and arms on the counter and tried to distract herself from boredom, _Why da Monday's havta be so slow, anyways._ It was rushed from about 4:30 to 5:30, but now the store was dead. Rogue already priced and shelved her crate of CD's for the day, done her French homework, and read ahead in Ernest Hemingway's _Farewell to Arms_ until she felt like throwing up from the horrid "romantic" dialogue. She had some trig problems to do, but instead of doing them she hoped that if she ignored them long enough that they would do themselves, or at least some trigonometry fairies would take up the cause.

She looked at the door and concentrated hard. _Please someone, anyone, come in an' give me somethin' ta do!_ She waited a few minutes, sighed and started to pull her math book out of her bag, doubting that trigonometry fairies would do it. When bells above the door rang, Rogue practically fell off her stool from excitement. Until she saw who it was. _Why did ah say "anyone?"_

"Hello, mon chere," Remy said as he strolled in. "Your prayers have been answered: Gambit has arrived."

Rogue glared at him. "Yah, that so? Well Gambit better turn around an' leave, 'cause this place ain't big enough for me, Gambit, an' his ego."

"Hold on dere, chere," Gambit said defensively. "I'm just here to look around and see if dere be anythin' here I like."

Rogue watched him wander through the store for a few minutes, wondering what he was up to. Occasionally he glanced up and caught Rogue watching him. He smiled playfully at her. Remy foolishly expected Rogue to look away and blush or giggle like other girls, but Rogue wasn't like any other girl. She crossed her arms and glared at him; she was not ashamed or embarrassed that she was looking at him, she had every right to be. _He might try an' steal somethin',_ she rationalized, but the truth was that she enjoyed watching him move about. He was very graceful, like a cat. After a few minutes he came to the register empty handed, put his elbows on the counter, set his chin in his hands, and smiled.

Noticing his lack of CDs or music related paraphernalia, Rogue asked, "Watcha doin', swamp rat? Ah thought ya said ya'd leave if ya didn't find anythin' ya liked."

"Oui."

"Well....did ya find somethin' ya like then?"

"Oui."

"Really?" Rogue said in disbelief.

"Oui."

"What is it, Cajun?" Rogue exclaimed. "Tell meh so ah can hurry up an' check ya out."

"You can check me out anytime, chere. I don't mind."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "That's not what ah meant an' ya know it. So ah'm gonna ask ya again, what did ya find ya liked?"

Remy didn't say anything. He lifted one of his hands out from under his chin and pointed to Rogue. "You, chere." Then he put his million dollar smile on.

Rogue rolled her eyes, then turned her face away so he didn't see her blush. "Whateveh, swamp rat." She pretended to busy herself with something on the wall behind her. _Damn him! Damn him for making meh blush...why am ah blushin' anyway? His just an annoyin' playeh who doesn' know when ta quit. Ah bet he read that line outta a book...no, ah doubt he'd even pick up a book, he probably found it on the internet o' somethin'. The Rogue, Independent Gothic, does NOT fall for cheesy pick-up lines found on the internet, even if the person who says it happens ta be hot...did ah just think that the swamp rat was cute? DAMN HIM! Ah must be sick, o' hangin' 'round Kitty to much._

Remy didn't know what to do then. Most girls would have giggled and given him their number. He stood up and leaned up against the counter. Silence ensued. Remy decided to play with her a bit and asked, "What is dis your listenin' to, chere?"

Rogue looked at him in disbelief. "Ya can't tell me ya neveh heard o' Queen before?"

Remy knew very well who Queen was, even owned three albums, but he shook his head no.

"Ah can't believe ya've neveh heard o' Queen before." Rogue tries to refresh his memory, "Queen, from the seventies? 'Anotheh one bites the dust?' 'We will Rock ya?' 'The Champions?'" Remy shook his head again. "Ya musta had one deprived childhood," declared the Goth.

"'I'm justa poor boy, nobody loves me,'" Remy quoted a line from Bohemian Rhapsody.

"Ya lying..." Rogue growled. "Why in the world did ya lead meh on like that? Ah was almost feelin' sorry for ya."

"Don't be angry, beb, alt'ough you are tres beau when you're angry," Remy said, which pissed her off even more. "Remy just loves da sound of your voice."

An evil thought popped into Rogue's head as she glared at Remy. "Ya know what sound ah'd love ta hear, Cajun?"

"My silence?" Remy guessed.

"Nooo, although that would be nice." Rogue continued, "The sound of mah fist hittin' that smug smile o' yours right off your face."

Remy saw the look in her eyes and realized she wasn't kidding. He jumped back and grabbed a CD out of the nearest box. "You wouldn' hurt a payin' customer now would you, chere?"

Rogue raised an eyebrow, "If ya think that a CD from the bargain dollah crate is gonna save ya, ya've got another thing comin'."

"How 'bout Remy take de la femme la plus belle* in town out dis Saturday?" Remy proposed.

"An' who might she be?" Rogue asked, "Wait, don't tell meh..Jean Grey, right? Ya promise ta get that annoyin' Miss Perfect outta mah hair for one night."

"Jean?? Who's Jean, chere?" Remy was taken aback and took another look at Rogue. "Non, doesn' matter, 'cause dere isn' anyone dat could possibly be more beautiful den you."

Rogue was completely bewildered. _Is this guy insane? Ah was just gonna punch 'em an' now he's askin' me out? He's gotta be kiddin' himself if he thinks Ah'll ever go anywhere with him, or anyone else for that matter. Doesn't he know Ah can kill 'em with a single touch? 'Sides who would wanna touch him, that slimy liar's probably been with half the girls in Bayville already._

She had to make sure she understood him right. "Ya wanna take meh out?"

"Oui, chere." Remy took her gloved hand and kissed it. "Non other."

Rogue wrenched her hand out of his. "Sorry ta disappoint ya, sugah, but ah don't date."

Again she surprised Gambit. _Dis girl always keeps me guessin'._

"I was prepared for a number of brush offs," Remy said eventually, "but an ultimatum, chere? Non. How come you don't date?"

"Ah guess it just goes ta show, ah'm not as predicable as ya thought," Rogue replied.

Remy was not going to give up, "An' dats what makes ya so intriguing, an' this Cajun likes mysteries. 'Specially da one where you avoid my question."

"What question, swamp rat?" Rogue sighed.

"Why you don' date?" he repeated.

Rogue just looked at him. She was so thankful when she heard the bells above the door ring. Two college age women walked in the store laughing. "Excuse meh, Gambit, but ah got ta wait on some real customers." Rogue came out from behind the register, starting toward her saviors.

Gambit waved his dollar CD. "I'm a real customer."

Rogue glanced at him and raised her eyebrow. "Do ya even know any song," she snatched the CD from Remy's hand, "'Electrasy' have?"

Gambit looked around the store and nodded to the browsing customers. "I t'ink maybe they need to be waited on more den me."

"Cosmic Castaway," Rogue said without looking at the back of the CD. "Though the only reason ah know that is 'cause it's on the Titan A.E. soundtrack with Powerman 5000 and Wailing Souls." She handed the CD back to Remy and walked over to the girls.

"Hallo, Ah'm Rogue. Do ya need any help findin' anythin'?" she asked the two women. They both looked up: One girl had a surprised look on her face, but the other looked at her, disgusted.

The woman with the disgusted look sneered. "I didn't realize _she_ was working here today." She grabbed her friend's arm. "I refuse to shop here when _she's_ working." Hurt filled Rogue's face. The rude one tried to drag her friend out of the store, but the other one put on the breaks before exiting.

"Whoa, what's the deal, Suzy?" the rude one's friend asked.

"She's a mutie, Nina," Suzy said. Nina stood there waiting for a continued explanation.

When she didn't get one Nina asked, "Is that it?"

Suzy responded, "Isn't that enough?!" Rogue solemnly walked back to Remy.

He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don' you pay any attention to dem girls." He whispered, "Dey don' know nothing."

Rogue brushed him off. "Don't touch meh," she hissed and walked back behind the counter.

Meanwhile, Nina planted her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought I knew you, Suzy." Nina shook her head. "To think, all this semester I've been living with a racist, intolerant...."

Suzy interrupted, "WHAT?! You're a fricken' mutie lover?! Wait...you're not one of _them_ are you?! I can't believe I let you borrow my clothes and everything!"

"No, Suzy, I'm not a mutant," Nina started furiously, "but do you remember my high school sweetheart I was telling you about? The one I cried about the first month after I moved in? Well, he was, not an amazing power, his hair just changed colors depending on how he felt, I sometimes called him Moody 'cause it reminded me of a mood ring..." Nina brought herself back to the present. "He was the sweetest guy I've _ever_ met and do you know why we broke up?" Nina paused. "'Cause ignorant, mutant haters like you decided it would be fun to beat the shit outta us one night. Broke my arm, and nearly killed him -"

Suzy interrupted again. "Too bad they didn't."

Nina shot her former friend and roommate a death glare. "Screw you!! You can find your own way back to school!! And you'd better start looking for a new roommate!!" Nina stormed out of the school toward her car, leaving Suzy stranded.

Suzy shifted awkwardly and look at the two mutants left in the store. Rogue felt a crazy mix of emotions: anger, self-resentment, ashamed. Rogue decided to pity her but she didn't know why. Maybe because of Xaivor's dream, maybe because she thought that if this one girl realized she wasn't a monster, she could convince herself that the hatred towards mutants, toward herself, would not last forever. "If ya want, ah can give ya a ride home after ah get off work at seven."

The student stared angrily at Rogue. "I'd rather die then accept help from someone like you!" And with that she stomped out of the store and started a long, cold, windy walk. Rogue knew she should let it get to her but it did, although she does do a good job at pretending it doesn't.

"I hope it rains," Remy said after she left.

While Remy was imagining the girl "Suzy" soaked like a wet dog trudging thought puddles and getting splashed by passing vehicles, Rogue had already rung up his CD, put it in a bag and handed it to him. "That'll be one 'o five."

"Huh," he responded.

"One dollah an' five cents, sugah," Rogue repeated quietly. "For the CD."

"Oh," Remy said pulling out some change from his pocket and clunking it on the counter. "I better be pickin' up Petey at da park, gotten kinda dark for 'em to be drawin' anymore. So I'll be seein' ya Saturday night, den?"

"No, Remy, ya won't," Rogue replied in an exhausted and serious tone.

Remy was about to leave, defeated for that day but she never answered his one question. "Why, chere?"

Rogue sighed. "It'll neveh work out, sugah. Ah can't touch anyone 'cause o' mah powers an' a totally Platonic relationship is unrealistic, don't ya think?"

"Non, I don'," and with that she watched Gambit exit without making another sound.

It was seven o'clock before another person entered the store. Jamal, who was closing that night, called to her, "You're working Tuesday, Friday, three to seven and Saturday ten to seven, right?"

"Yeah," Rogue answered quietly, her mind somewhere else. _Ah'm right, ah Platonic relationship is ridiculous, especially with someone like that stupid Cajun. He's wrong. He just said that to get undeh my skin, not literally o' course. He just wants ta see if he can get meh ta swoon, an' he won't. It's not like he's that hot with his slight muscular build, that friendly southern accent, an' that perfect smile... GRRR. Rogue, why are ya thinkin' like this? He's nobody. Though he did keep ya entertained today... Maybe it won't be so bad if he came back ta talk later this week..._ She grinned despite of herself.

"You okay, Rogue?" Jamal asked.

"Yeah, ah'm fine," Rogue replied. "It's just been a long day. See ya Tuesday." Rogue left the store. Logan was already waiting for her out front in the X-Jeep.

"How was your day, Stripes?" Logan asked as she hopped in.

"Fine," was all she said. He realized that she didn't want to talk anymore, so he started up the Jeep and pulled out. Then he smelt something. "Kid, did you eat at a Creole restaurant today?"

Rogue gave him a funny look. "No, why?"

"You smell like gumbo tonight, that's all."

* * *

*The most beautiful woman, translated by babelfish. I don't know French so sorry if I wrote it in the wrong form or anything.


	5. A Walk in the Park

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

* * *

**  
NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Five - A Walk in the Park  
**

Remy easily picked out Peter from the crowd at the park. He was the tall, bulky guy carrying a sketchbook and a tackle box. What really set him apart from the others the most was the sad, lonely look on his face.

"Come, Peter, we'd better be gettin' back to base, if dere's anyt'ing left of it," Remy greeted his solemn friend.

"Yes, I do not think it was a good idea to leave John alone, playing with the gas stove. I do not think he was only making macaroni and cheese," Peter joked.

His friend laughed. "Oui, but I don' t'ink it would have been safe if we stayed either, non. I don' wish to be barbecued. 'Sides Mastermind an' Sabertooth bailed out 'fore we did, dey are just as responsible as us." Remy paused. "I hope it's still dere. I t'ink dat Monsieur Magneto would be non too pleased if dere was no base when he gets back." Remy mused for a second. "He'd have to put world domination on hold and work twice as hard on dose etch-a-sketches of his."

"When does Magneto return?" Peter asked.

"Sometime next week," Remy replied. "Don't worry, dere still be plenty o' time to t'row a wild party, non?" Gambit looked at his teamates still sad face. "What's wrong, mon ami?" Remy asked. "You look like someone just pulled off de head of your favorite action figure. De petite not in de park today?"

"No, she was there, like you said she would be," Peter replied as he got in the vehicle. "She was walking with her boyfriend today."

"Oh, I am sorry Peter," Remy knew the presence of a boyfriend would never stop him, but Peter is much more self-concious and timid than he is. "So you didn' get a chance to sketch de kitten?"

"No, I did."

"Really? Do tell," Remy said as they drove to the base.

~~~FLASHBACK~~~~

Peter sat down on a park bench overlooking a fragment of a forest and a path that Remy said Kitty Pryde frequented. Remy had followed Kitty's activities for a few days in order to arrange a "chance" meeting between Peter and Kitty. _Okay, I am to sit here sketching and when she walks by I am stunned by her beauty and walk up to her and say, "You are most beautiful. I was drawing the park, but it was missing someting and I think it was you. Do you mind if I draw you in my scene?" _Piotr sighed. _I think that I will do well on the stunned part but speaking to her? And remembering what to say in English?_

He heard footsteps coming around the bend and tensed up. _Uh, oh. I cannot do it._ And around the bend he saw...an older woman walking her two dachhounds. _You should relax, Piotr. Pull out your sketch book and start drawing. She will never believe you if there is no drawing._ He pulled out his box of pencils, opened his sketch book to a fresh page and got lost in the curves of the leaves and the negative spaces of the trees.

Time flew by. Peter finished the scene, and he did feel that there was something missing. He looked at his watch: 6:00PM! The sky was just starting to show the signs of a sunset. The streetlights over the path were lighting up. Peter sighed. _Kitty is not going to walk through the park today._ He glanced at his drawing. S_till needs something. It will have to wait for another day._

The Russian began to pack up when he heard a sweet giggle. He looked up excitedly but his face fell as he saw the whole scene.

Sure enough, the sweet giggle belonged to Kitty Pryde, but close by her side was the cause of her giggles, Lance Alvers. They were too far away for Peter to hear what they were saying but their movements gave it all away. Lance would say something, Kitty would giggle and shove him off the sidewalk. He walked back over to her and grabbed her hand. Lance swung her around and grabbed her other hand. They stood there facing each other, hands intertwined, underneath a street lamp.

Peter had never felt so envious or lonely before. He glanced at his sketch. _That is exactly what is missing._

Peter picked up his sketch book and headed toward the couple. He was hesitant yet eager to interrupt. "Excuse me, sorry to bother you..."

"Damn straight!" Lance shot at him. That made Peter even more nervous, and he backed away.

"Lance!" Kitty shouted apologetically after Piotr, "I'm sorry. Hey you were at Vinyl Vintage the other day, when Rogue got her job."

"Uh, yes." Peter didn't think she'd remember. "It is nice to see you again."

"You, too," Kitty smiled. Peter's face lit up.

"Wait a minute," Lance now recognized Peter. "You're one of Magneto's new recruits!" Lance put himself protectively between Peter and Kitty. "What do you want?"

Feeling the resentment from Lance, Peter gave up. "Um, I am sorry. I think I will go now." He turned to leave.

"Lance!" Kitty scolded and came out from behind him. "No, I'm sorry. Peter, right?"

"You know his name?" Lance exclaimed, but his comment was brushed off by Kitty.

"Peter, come back, Lance just felt the need to prove how macho and full of testosterone he is. He's sorry." Peter walked back to the couple.

"'M not," Lance muttered under his breath. He didn't dare say it any louder, because he knew Kitty would give him a verbal lashing if he did.

Kitty addressed Peter again, "Now, what is it you wanted to ask?"

Peter shifted his weight uneasily. "Well, I, See, I was drawing before. . ." Peter held up his sketch. ". . . and, well, when I finished, I thought it was missing something, and, uh, when I saw you two standing here, I thought, uh, that it would look good in my drawing, and I wondered if I could draw you, both of you, together here..."

A big grin emerged across Kitty's face. "Of course you can, right Lance?"

Lance continued to be protective. "I'm not so sure Kitty, I mean, It could be a trick. Magneto may have sent him here to -"

She interrupted him. "You know, Lance, it isn't like we're on, like, _Charmed_ or something. I don't think that we're going to be sucked into his drawing. Are we?" She addressed Peter on that last part.

"Uh, no. At least it has never happened before," Peter replied.

"See, it's totally safe," Kitty reassured Lance.

"Okay, I'll do it," he agreed.

"So, Peter, where do you want us?"

"Right here, under this light, facing each other and holding hands." Peter helped them back into the position they were in before he interrupted. Peter backed up toward the bench where he was sitting before and started drawing.

About twenty minutes later he was done with the preliminary sketches and didn't need his models anymore. Reluctantly he got up and thanked them.

"Well, can I see it?" she bubbled.

Peter grew self-conscious. "It is not good. It is not finished, it is just a sketch."

"That's okay," Kitty replied. "I'd _really_ want to see what it looks like. I've never been in a drawing before." Kitty smiled graciously at him.

Peter was beaten by that smile. He slowly opened his sketch book to the page and handed it to them.

"Wow!" Kitty exclaimed. "You're really good!"

Peter blushed. "No, it is only a sketch."

"Don't be so modest." Kitty complimented, "I don't know anyone who can draw this well. You're the best artist I know." Peter caught her eye for a second, and they had "a moment."

Lance noticed the mild flirtation. "Yeah, it's great. Keep up the good work, big guy. Kitty, shouldn't we be getting you home for dinner?"

Kitty was blasted back to reality. _I never realized how deep and blue his eyes were._ "Yeah, okay, Lance." The started to leave when Kitty hollered back to Peter, "Thank you. I'd really like to see it after it's all done, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Kitty." Peter grinned. _I will get to see her again._ As he watched them walked away, his smile faded as he found himself wishing he was the one taking her home.

~~~~END FLASHBACK~~~~

"Don' be so glum, Petey," Remy said at the conclusion of Peter's story. "You'll get to see the Kitten again soon and impress her with all your sensitivity and creativity."

Peter didn't say anything. They pulled up to Magneto's base. From the outside the building looked fine, despite the worries of leaving a firebug alone in a secluded area for much of the afternoon. "Let us go see if anything remains inside," Peter suggested.

* * *

**Author's note**: I know the time line doesn't quite line up with Remy having like two hours or something before he actually went to see Rogue. I just couldn't fix it so Peter would be sketching in daylight and Remy would get to the music store at 6. So, just pretend that Remy wanted to wait until Rogue would be alone in the store...or he when grocery shopping or something...you use that brilliant little imagination of yours to figure out what he was doing. Bon voyage:)


	6. I Always Figured You'd Like It Kinky

**A/N**: The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. I had originally planned to put up a new chapter every week or so but life had other things planned for me. I'm on break for a while now so I'll try and get writing for y'al. I feel especially bad for keeping Wanda/John pairing so long from Lady MR, and evolutionary spider but i've read some other fics and there seems to be some more Wanda/John matching-making going on so I hope you have been sustained until now :)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

* * *

_thoughts_  
~~la la singing/music~~

* * *

**  
NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Six - I always figured you'd like it kinky**

***Previously in _Nine to Five_***

"Come, Peter, we'd better be gettin' back to base, if dere's anyt'ing left of it," Remy greeted his solemn friend.

"Yes, I do not think it was a good idea to leave John alone, playing with the gas stove. I do not think he was only making macaroni and cheese," Piotr joked.

His friend laughed. "Oui, but I don' t'ink it would have been safe if we stayed either, non. I don' wish to be barbecued. 'sides Mastermind an' Sabertooth bailed out 'fore we did, dey are just as responsible as us." Remy paused. "I hope it is still dere. I t'ink dat Monsieur Magneto would be non too pleased if dere was no base when he gets back." Remy mused for a second. "He'd have to put world domination on hold and work twice as hard on dose etch-a-sketches of his."

They pulled up to Magneto's base. From the outside the building looked fine, despite the worries of leaving a firebug alone in a secluded area for much of the afternoon. "Let us go see if anything remains inside," Piotr suggested.

* * *

Remy and Piotr approached the base carefully - expecting it to explode at any second. Piotr changed into his metal form and slowly opened the door.

The living quarters were dark, silent, and surprisingly intact save a steady vibration of bass coming from a certain Acolyte's bedroom.

"Dis reminds me a little too much of a horror flick," Remy commented, noticing the silent, stagnant nature of the house.

"Yes, if a knife-wielding homicidal maniac should sneak up behind us or jump out of a closet, I would not be surprised," Piotr agreed. "Perhaps we should go make sure John is still breathing." Remy nodded in agreement.

The two moved together back to back toward the room of the pyromaniac, still wary of the silence. As they got closer they were able to make out some of the words to the rock music playing in the Aussie's room: ~~...And I will not die, I will not die, I will not die...~~ "Dat homme has some strange taste," Remy muttered.

They knocked: no answer. They knocked again: Again, same result. Peter tested the door: unlocked. He preceded to swing the door open to reveal a most peculiar sight.

St. John stood on a chair with his back to the door. He was wearing one of Magneto's capes and a newspaper hat on his head. In his hand he was holding an uncooked spaghetti noodle. Littered about the room were over a hundred candles. The flames rose and fell and leaped from candle to candle like the fountains at Disneyland while John conducted them to his favorite Australian band by brandishing the spaghetti noodle in the air.

Being too involved in his work, John did not notice Remy and Piotr watching him until the song ended and they started clapping.

"Bravo, encore, encore," Remy shouted. Piotr whistled.

Startled, John slipped on the chair and fell to the ground. "Don't you blokes know any better than to sneak up on a guy like that?! What the hell happened to knocking?"

"We did, John," Peter answered, "but you were too involved in your 'work' to notice." Piotr and Remy laughed.

"Why did you come in here in the first place?" John asked as he stood up. "If I had left my friend alone out in the bloody boondocks for half the day, I wouldn't want to mess with him."

"De place was still in one piece, we wanted ta make sure you were still breathin'," Remy answered.

"You're just lucky that I took that anger management class while I was at juvie," John responded and brushed off his pants.

Remy replied sarcasticly, "You? Manage your anger? Nice hat, mon ami. Really brings out your eyes." St. John reached up to the top of his head and pulled off the newspaper hat, crumpled it up in one hand and tried to hide it behind his back.

John kept his cool. "Yeah, but I might make an exception just for you, mate."

Piotr decided it was time to stop teasing John. He was starting to feel bad for leaving him alone in the big, impersonal base all afternoon. "Come on, Remy, we should go check the rest of the base."

Remy couldn't leave without one more comment: "Yeah, we should leave John-boy here wit' his candles." Remy laughed. "You'd t'ink he'd got some hot fille comin' over here. Is dere somethin' you aren't tellin' us, Johnny-boy?

John didn't even dignify that comment with a response. _I hate how he rubs it in that he can have any girl he wants, and I'm stuck here all day without even my "friends" by my side. Just 'cause I'm not off stalking some X-Geek like them._ John glared at Remy, created a fire dragon out of the candle flames, that chased the X-Geek smitten Acolytes out of the room. Once they were outside his room, the fire dragon dissipated, and John slammed and locked his door.

From the other side of the door Remy shrugged his shoulders and said innocently, "Wha'd I say?"

"We are his friends, we should not leave him here alone," Piotr reasoned as they walked to their own quarters.

Remy started to feel guilty. "Ya, you're right, but dere isn' much we can do 'bout dat now. Maybe I'll buy 'em a new lighter or somethin'."

Remy started to open the door to his room, with his thoughts already drifting back to Rogue. _Now how do I go 'bout convincing da belle to go out wit' me?_ His thoughts were interrupted by loud cracking and booming and flying pieces of white string followed by an avalanche of crumpled up newspaper covering him.

_What de hell?!?!_ Remy's eyes narrowed. _Pyro._"Oh no, Piotr!!!" Remy shouted.

Remy soon realized that his warning came too late as he as saw Piotr slowly and angrily making his way down the hall covered in Saran wrap and honey. Piotr stopped before Remy, who was still standing amidst a mountain of newspaper and remnants of twenty or so Fourth of July snappers. Piotr declared: "John has lost all of the sympathy I had for him."

"Good," Remy replied with an evil grin forming on his face. "You got any duct tape?" Several minutes later screams are heard throughout Magneto's base.

* * *

Two unsober figures came stumbling into Magneto's base an hour or so after Peter and Remy had sought revenge. Actually only the scraggily, bum looking one was stumbling, but he was leaning on the taller shaggy one, setting him off balance. It wasn't helping that Mastermind was making Sabertooth imagine walls and stairs where there weren't walls and stairs and vise versa. Sabertooth was getting a little pissed, but didn't want to beat him down because one, the boss would beat him later for hurting the telepath, who was essential for some future plan of his (**A/N:** This takes place before "The Toad, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," aka Wanda still wants to kill her father) and two, he was his only drinking buddy. Sure, he could drink with the Russki or the Cajun, but the Russian's no fun and the Cajun always steals his wallet and ditches him. The Aussie was fun but underage in the States and would never shut up about the superiority of Australian beer and how beer in the states was disgraceful to beers everywhere. Besides it's fun watching Mastermind mess with people's minds at the bar. Sabertooth smirked remembering the mayhem that night.

Sabertooth tripped again, glared at Mastermind, who laughed. A muffled sound came from above them. They both looked up. Hysterical laughter ensued.

* * *

Another hour passed. Outside the base an enemy of Magneto descended from the night sky. Her combat boots lightly touched the ground, and she confidently marched toward the entrance with the evilest of grins on her face and the taste of revenge on the tip of her tongue. _At last he will pay_. She tried the doorknob: locked. She studied the keypad next to the door. _No problem_, she thought and raised her arm toward the door and concentrated. In response the door clicked and swung open a little.

The girl looked inside, all was dark. Her hesitance stopped there as her rage and anger for her father, Magneto, swelled up again. She raised her arm again and then threw it to the side causing the door to slam hard against the opposite wall. She stomped into entry way and ominous lightning flashed silhouetting her form in the doorway. _It's too quiet in here. Was he expecting my attack? But how? He didn't even know that I found out where his base was, or did he? Dammit! He set me up and I fell for it! No matter, the Scarlet Witch can handle any trick he may have up his sleeves. I will not be denied my revenge!_

The darkness and the silence was too much for her so she turned on the lights. To her right was a large room with several couches around a large entertainment center, and a bar and some stools along the opposite wall. Near the bar there was a swinging door that she assumed led to some sort of kitchen. Further up and to her left was a hallway with several closed doors and there appeared to be a similar hallway on the far right wall.

The silence continued, there was no attack. Y_et,_ she thought. _Where is he?!?!_ She took a few more steps into the base, and then she heard something. _Finally, some action!_ The witch halted and prepared herself for an attack that never came. Wanda relaxed her body but remained annoyed. Then she heard it again. _It's coming from above me._ Her eyes followed the ten foot ceiling until they came upon a strange grey cocoon. _What the hell?_ She walked closer to the gray mass. Eventually she made out that it was a person covered, head to toe, in duct tape. The only part that wasn't covered in duct tape was his head with the exception of his mouth.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, crossed her arms, slanted her eyes, and demanded, "Where is Magneto?" All she got was a muffled response and some eyebrow movements from the Acolyte above her. Wanda let out an incompetent sigh and rose herself up within reaching distance of her future informant. Her fingers gripped one side of the duct tape covering his mouth. She smiled evilly at him until his frightened eyes satisfied her, and then she ripped the tape off.

"YAHHOOOOOOOWWWWW!!" exclaimed the captive. "Could you have been a little more gentle, love?"

"No, it's not in my nature," Wanda replied after lowering herself to the ground and resuming her annoyed look.

Pyro flashed a mischievous smile, "The gentle ones are no fun anyway."

Wanda's eyes narrowed. _This boy is duct taped to a ceiling and he has the audacity to hit on me? How stupid is he? Well he does work for my father._ "Where is Magneto?" she demanded again.

"Aren't you at least gonna help me down?" pleaded John.

"Not if I can help it," she replied. "This could all be apart of Magneto's elaborate plan to trap me and prevent me from killing him."

John continued to flirt with her. _I'm duct taped to a ceiling, I've lost my dignity, if I had any to begin with. What more have I got to lose_? "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when your paranoid?"

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Flattery will not help you. Now tell me where Magneto is before I have to hurt you."

John paid no heed to her warning, "I'd love to, but I can't seem to remember with this blasted tape all over me. So if you would be so kind."

Wanda was getting pissed. "Is the tape cutting off the oxygen to you brain or do you normally enjoy pissing off violent, crazy people?"

"Well, I did put Kool-Aid in Sabertooth's bed today so that as of tomorrow his new codename will be The Amazing Techni-colored Dreamcoat, so I'll have to go with the second one," the Aussie replied.

Wanda started to laugh at the thought of a multicolored, fruity flavored Sabertooth, but she caught herself after a chuckle. _I don't laugh, especially right now when I'm so close to my revenge. I haven't laughed since I dumped a bucketfull of sand down Pietro's pants the day before I was taken away to the asylum_. Wanda's anger swelled up again and the smile left her face. "I'll give you one more chance to tell me where Magneto is."

John would not back down on his stipulations. "Huh, I still appear to be adhered to the ceiling."

"Fine," Wanda growled and she turned to walk down the hallway to her left.

"FINE!" John shouted from his cocoon. "The view is better from up here anyway," he added.

Wanda stopped dead in her tracks. _The little perve!_ She flew back over to John and looked him straight in the eye. She tried to frighten him with a glare, but he was too pissed about still being stuck up on the ceiling covered in duct tape to care. She pulled the piece of duct tape she had removed from his mouth out of here pocket and stuck it back in its previous location. She again walked away from John, smiling happily at the muffled expletives she heard coming from the duct tape tumor.

As she rounded the corner she reconsidered her actions. _He does seem willing to help me as long as I get him down. The others might not be so forthcoming, and I need to save my strength for strangling Magneto_. She made sure she was out of view from the Aussie and raised her left hand. She felt a change in the atmosphere as she made the probability that the duck tape would lose all adhesiveness at that moment probable.

_I can't believe she left me up here! _St. John thought. _Talk about a -_ Before he could finish his thought, St. John felt the tape that held him to the ceiling becoming slack. _Oh, shit_, was his last thought as he belly flopped into the hard, cold metal floor of the base.

Wanda stifled another laugh as John groaned and rolled over, still encased in the duct tape, but at least no longer attached to the ceiling. She almost lost it again as she watched him try and wiggle himself over to her. _Why in the world do I find him so amusing? The Brotherhood acts twice, no, twenty times as stupid as does and they only seem to annoy me. Maybe I'm just reveling in the fact that my father will be dead soon._

St. John mumbled something from behind his duct taped mouth and looked expectantly at Wanda. She just raised one eyebrow and pretended not to understand that he wanted her to help him get out. St. John grew angry and started thrashing about and raising his eyebrows in aggravation. Wanda then smirked and left the room. Thinking he was abandoned, John banged his head floor and started to whimper. His eyes widened when he saw Wanda reenter the room from the kitchen. In her hand was probably the largest knife she could find and on her face was the wickedest of smiles. John tried not to look as frightened as he felt. Wanda was disappointed that he was not squirming, but she cut him lose anyway.

After John successfully removed the tape from his body Wand looked at him expectantly. "Now where is Magneto?" she asked impatiently. Wanda was still dangling the knife from her hand, which made St. John even more nervous about telling her that Magneto wasn't even there and wouldn't be back for another week.

"Uhh," John started and he backed up to put a couple of feet between them. "Magneto isn't exactly here at the moment."

"WHAT?!!?!?!" Wanda exclaimed. "YOU LIE!!!" she shouted and she hex bolted his ass to the wall.

"No, no, really, he's gone, outta town, won't be back 'til next week," John started to explain as he tried to slyly pull his lighter out of his pocket.

"NO! HE'S HERE SOMEWHERE!! HE MUST BE!!" she yelled. "I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT -" Wanda was cut off by a firey serpent swirling around her. While she was distracted St. John fell off the wall, this time landing on his feet. His success was short lived as Wanda had bolted the serpent and now it was surrounding him and catching his shirt on fire. Luckily John's powers allowed him to dissipate the creature, but not before it burned his shirt.

"DAMMIT WOMAN!! This was one of my favorite shirts!!" John exclaimed when he looked down and saw his Led Zeppelin shirt in tatters.

"That is not even the beginning of your suffering!" Wanda shot back.

John reached for his lighter again and started to run toward her, and Wanda hastily threw a hex bolt at him. It hit John at his waist and the probabilities aligned so that his belt broke causing his pants to fall to his ankles and him to trip at fall to the ground, sending his lighter sliding across the floor to the Scarlet Witch's feet. Wanda promptly bent down and picked it up. She examined it closely. "Is this all you got? Pathetic." She pocketed the lighter.

After looking down at his jeans around his ankles, John almost laughed at the situation. "If you wanted me to take my pants off, love, you could have just asked."

That was definitely not the right thing to say to Wanda at that moment. Her face grew hot and reddened to match her uniform. She wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or anger, well, she was pretty sure about the anger part. John realized his error when he found himself not touching the ground anymore. He looked over at Wanda: Her arms were in the air, and she elevated various other objects about the room as well. Then the room started spinning, well actually Wanda was making everything orbit around herself so to John it appeared as if the world was spinning.

_I really shouldn't have eaten the whole box of mac & cheese_, John thought to himself after choking his stomach back down.

Wanda appeared to be having a lot of fun spinning the objects faster and faster around herself. The pale look on John's face added to her enjoyment. By that time, the centrifugal force she was creating had thrown John's pants off his body and down the right hand hallway hitting a bedroom door.

"What de hell?" was Remy's response after he opened his door to find a pair of St. John's jeans on the floor outside his bedroom. He picked them up in one hand and headed toward the living room. "John what de hell are your pants doin'..." Remy stopped as he entered the room.

By the time Remy had made it there, St. John was desperately clinging to the chandelier in only his smurf boxers and his scorched Led Zeppelin Tee while Wanda was playing Darth Vador, using her powers to toss things at him, like lamps and chairs. "Whoa, John-boy, looks like you really did have a fille coming over," Remy mused at the scene a bit. He looked from John to Wanda who had just acknowledged his presence, then back to smurf-boxer John. "Huh, I always figured you'd like it kinky."

"WHAT?!?" Wanda growled and turned her evil look toward Remy. Wanda then stopped trying to dislodge John and turned her anger onto the Cajun. It was now his turn to have his ass hexed to the wall. Remy struggled to get free but Wanda had turned all her attention to kicking his ass. "Is everyone in this place a complete idiot?! You do not insult crazy people!!"

"Yes, Remy sees the error in his ways and profusely apologizes to the lovely belle," Remy said to try and smooth things over.

"Who the hell is Remy? I'm talking about you two morons!" Wanda replied not realizing that sometimes Remy switches into talking in the third person. Luckily for Remy, John had used this distraction to get down from the chandelier and, using some moves Gambit had taught him, he moved stealthily behind her.

Wanda continued her tirade, "...All I wanted to do was kill Magneto, but nnnoooo, you too had to be difficult and lie for him." Wanda pulled another Darth Vador and lifted Remy higher off the ground. He started to gasp for air as if he was being choked. "It doesn't matter how long you protect him, I will find him and - AAHHHH!" St. John tackled her from behind holding her arms down her sides in a bear hug. When Wanda lost her concentration, Remy fell to the ground, but landed gracefully despite the fact that he was practically strangled. He ran to Piotr's room after realizing that John was not going to be able to hold her for long.

"AARRRGGGG!!!" Wanda struggled to free herself from John's grasp, but he held on for dear life. _I'll definitely be dead this time if she gets out_. "Let me go you...you..."

"Run out of insults already," John interrupted.

"No, there is just none so horrible as to describe you!" Wanda tried throwing some random hex bolts hoping to hit John, but only succeeding in breaking some lamps and flipping a couch.

"You need to calm down," John tried soothing her. "Magneto is not here, I'm not lying. If he was, do you think he'd hide from you? He's all big shot and arrogant, he'd never admit he was frightened even if he was! And he definitely wouldn't hide behind us. He knows were more competent than the Brotherhood, but he doesn't trust us that much."

Wanda stopped struggling and considered it for a minute. _He's right. He wouldn't hide, he thinks nothing can stop him. Or maybe this is still a part of a trap_. "You're trying to trick me; it won't work."

"Will you stop it with the paranoid fantasies, already?!" John shouted in exasperation.

"'It's not paranoia if your right (1),'" Wanda retorted.

"But your not, so it is. Now CALM DOWN!" replied John.

Heavy footsteps announced Piotr and Remy's return. Wanda had wiggled so much that she and John were now halfway in the kitchen.

"I did not believe it when Remy told me," said Piotr. "You are quite a kinky fellow, John." Both Wanda and John's eyes narrowed. Despite the fact that John wished to punch Piotr right then, he did not loosen his grip on Wanda.

"Oh, aren't dey so cute, Petey," Remy commented on their similar facial expressions.

"Yes, I do believe this is a Kodak moment," Piotr replied and pulled out a camera from behind his back. FLASH, CLICK.

Wanda strained her neck around to look at John. "I'm not stoppin' ya, love," John said and he let her go. "Let 'em have it."

Wanda again smiled evilly as she sat up, and an "I'm screwed" expression appeared on Piotr's face.

Pioter pointed to Remy who was slinking away into the shadows. "It was his idea."

First Wanda hex bolted Peter who turned into his metal form only to have it magnetized by the hexing. Piotr soon realized that being magnetized and in a kitchen was a bad thing as forks, knives, spoons and pots and pans started flying toward him. He quickly exited the kitchen and ran outside the metal base and hid in a ditch until the hex wore off.

Now the Scarlet Witch turned to Remy who had almost made it safely out the kitchen window. "Kitchen window, real original. Let me help you make an original exit." Wanda flung Remy out into the living area where she noticed a fireplace. "Gambler man or whatever you call yourself, how does if feel to be the first person to successfully pull off a Santa Claus?"

"Oh, no," was all Remy could get out before he was being launched up the fireplace. But halfway up chimney, Remy stopped moving up. "What's the deal? I t'ought the big jolly man made it out of da chimney," came Remy's muffled cry from behind the brick mantle.

"Yes, but you forgot to put your finger next to your nose," Wanda said. "Too bad."

All the while John laughed hysterically at the fate of his friends. "You're good, I will never forget the look on his face – ha, ha, ha - when you – ha, ha, ha. This is great! You should come over more often."

The last comment bewildered the witch. "Why would you want me to come back? I wrecked you house, spun you around the room and tortured your friends."

"But it was all in good fun, luv. Anything that makes you laugh is worth it. And they'll," indicating Piotr and Remy, "will get over it. It'll give me something to rag on them about later." John smiled playfully at Wanda. "Now where did that camera go? I believe that we have some blackmail photographs to take."

* * *

(1) Quote from the X-files.


	7. An Interlude with Ice Cream

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

St. John is not, by any means, a typical Australian or even a representative of Australians, so please do not journey to Australia expecting to find a whole bunch of trouble-making people to play with matches with. Especially in the forests there 'cause if you burnt those down I would have to hunt you down and beat you with a stick (just kidding but I would be enraged beyond words).

* * *

_thoughts_

* * *

**A/N:** I was going to start back up on the next day at Rogue's work since that is what this fic is supposed to revolve around but I realized there were too many loose ends that I couldn't fit into that chapter so I wrote this short interlude. Plus, there's more Wanda/John fun and who could say no to that?

* * *

****

NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Seven - An Interlude with Ice Cream

"I really did a bang up job at wreaking the place," Wanda said as she and John righted one of the couches, each with one hand while balancing a bowl of ice cream in the other.

"None better. Although Sabertooth is a close runner up." John flopped down on the couch. "This is actually our second headquarters. While at our last one, Remy brought home a girl from the pub one night. Toothy had entered the kitchen the next morning to find some cute, dumb blonde in her underwear and a baby tee eating the last of his lucky charms. Let's just say he was a little more than fuming, more about his cereal I think, than Remy bringing a girl home. Well, he trashed the place then Mags had this big meeting about how the secrecy of our base had been compromised and how, because of Remy's stupid action, we had to pack up and leave. I think Mags didn't want to fix it up again. Like that girl could have found the base again. She couldn't find her way out of a cardboard box."

"Now give her a little credit, homme," Remy interjected from his position, still stuck in the chimney. After taking many humiliating photos of Peter in the ditch, who had eventually demagnetized and was now sleeping peacefully dreaming of one special kitten, Wanda and John had the difficulty of figuring out how to prove that Remy was actually in the chimney. Eventually, they decided to remove the few bricks from in front of his face. They were going to help him out after that, but Wanda got hungry, so they got an early morning snack instead. "She had enough sense ta turn you down at de bar."

"How long would you like to spent in the chimney tonight, 'homme?'" John mocked.

"COME ON! I have ta go ta da bathroom!" Remy pleaded.

Wanda took another bite of her chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream (**A/N**:Go Persephone and her culinary caper story!) and remained seated on the couch next to John. "I figured out where Magneto's base was, and I didn't even have to be hit on by a slimey Cajun in a bar."

The firebug turned back to Wanda. "How did you find it, anyway? I mean, we're out in the bloody boondocks with not even a McDonalds for twenty miles. I would have never picked this place if I had a say."

"Magneto really needs to either make up some better aliases or get and unlisted number."

"You mean you just looked his 'Top Secret Headquarters' up in the phone book?!" John exclaimed.

"Yes, exactly," Wanda confirmed then took another bite of the delicious substance in her bowl before she went into a further explanation. "First I hexed the book to open to the right page, but then all I had to do was figure out what stupid name he came up with."

"What was it?"

Wanda put her spoon in her bowl and shifted her weight so she could pull a piece of paper out of her back pocket. "Here, I bet even YOU could figure out which one he came up with."

John scanned the ripped out phone book page. Nothing caught his eye on that side, so he flipped it over. "No way," John mumbled as he saw it then checked the address. "Yep, that's it," he managed to get out before he burst out laughing and almost dumped what was left of his ice cream on his lap. Wanda found herself smiling again, almost laughing with John this time. _What is wrong with me tonight? I wonder if he drugged the ice cream?_ Then Wanda looked at John rolling around on the floor still in his smurf boxers and the tattered tee with ice cream threatening to spill all over the place. _Man, I am paranoid_. Wanda decided not to stop smiling this time.

"What? What is it?" Remy called from the chimney. John said something between laughs, but Remy couldn't make it out.

"What?!" Remy repeted. John tried to calm himself down and took some deep breaths.

"Caesar, comma, Magnus!" John managed to get out before he burst out in laughter again.

"Yah, dat sounds like Mags alrigh'," Remy chuckled. He couldn't do much more being incased in brick. He had thought about charging the chimney up to get out, but the realization that brick shrapnel was not fun stopped him.

"You never told me where Magneto was. Recruiting more idiots to join his parade?" Wanda inquired as she finished her last spoonful. _Maybe this trip won't be an entire loss if they can tell me where he is. I could really surprise him before he crumbles before me_.

"Like he would trust us with that valuable information," John answered. "I know he didn't go off recruiting because since the Angel incident he takes one of us with him."

"Yeah, Rogue told me about that," Wanda said. Rogue and Wanda weren't great friends being on different sides of the good guy/bad guy fence, but they did occasionally talk about music and the idiotic, hypocritical, conformist tendencies of the world and how it made them sick. They were on the same wave length when it came to that.

At the mention of Rogue's name, Gambit's ears perked up, not that anyone noticed. He knew better than to ask the witch about her friendship with the current object of his affection. John would never drop it if he did. He tuned back into John and Wanda's conversation, though he was disappointed that Rogue's name was not mentioned again.

"You met Mags right after the Angel fiasco, right Remy," John asked his trapped teammate.

Remy mumbled something indicting an affirmative response but refused to elaborate. At that moment he was reminded of his life before Magneto, and he realized that he could never have Rogue. _She would never want me after finding out what I've done._.

~~~~~~FLASHBACK~~~~~~~

"I need you to get this mutant for me," the pastey man with the crew cut jet black hair handed him a folder.

Remy opened the folder. Inside was a large, professional picture of a tall, muscular man, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and dressed in a very upper cut type fashion. After memorizing his features and build, Remy turned the picture over and underneath were several very blurry pictures that looked like some type of large oddly shaped bird and some newspaper articles from the _New York Times_ and the _Weekly World News_ about angel sightings in Manhattan. Underneath that was a short biography on Warren Worthington III.

"Dis is de last one, right?" Remy asked as he shut the folder and pocketed it in his trench coat. "After dis my debt to you is paid off an' I'm a free man."

The pastey man in the lab coat turned back to his computer screen. "Yes, yes, this is the last mutant I need for my project." _But you won't ever be free of your debt to me Remy LeBeau. I own you, now and forever._

Remy was too anxious to get this job over with to notice his debtor's choice of words. Remy silently disappeared from the room and got on the next train to New York.

He had been tracking Warren Worthington III for several days, planning his move, before Rogue, Scott, and Magneto got there. He watched silently from the shadows the whole time. That was the first time he saw Rogue, and he was mesmerized. She was determined; she wouldn't quit. She challenged Magneto to a one-on-one! One of the most powerful mutants in the world was given a run for his money by a girl he figured no more than eighteen. It wasn't only that, she had so much spirit, yet he could tell that she felt so alone, an outcast, just like him.

After Magneto had given up on "recruiting" Angel, he noticed a pair of glowing eyes in an alley way watching him. He recognized them to belong to a henchman of the man who had developed and sold him the advancement mutant machine (A/N: I don't know what it was actually called but the thing from the caldron that he used to advance mutations). With the loss of Angel, Magneto decided to offer Gambit a position.

"Are you still working for Dr. Essex?" Magneto asked the thief in the corner.

"Oui, almost got my debt paid off d'ough. Gettin' da bird-boy is my last job," Remy responded.

Magneto laughed. "Dear boy, he will never release you of your debt! You are a fool to believe so. Come work for me instead."

_I can't believe this. Which crazy man do I choose? The one who wants to kill all the humans and take over the world and try to kidnap me if I say no or....Essex. I never really did like humans much, specially after de almost wedding. 'N anythin's gotta be better dan Essex_."How you gonna get Essex to agree to dat?"

"I have my methods. So is it a deal?" Magneto held out his hand to Gambit, who took it.

~~~~~~~~END FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~

Remy blinked and with nothing better to do, tuned back into John and Wanda's conversation.

"I think he mentioned something about an Etch-a-sketch fair, but I wasn't payin' any attention," John said. "You'd have to ask Petey to be sure. I'm positive he didn't mention where it was, although there can't be too many of those, can there?"

A plan was already forming in Wanda's mind. "Yes, I can look up etch-a-sketch conferences on the internet tomorrow." She thought a little more about her previous statement. "Why the hell would he be at an etch-a-sketch fair?"

"Apparently that's how he makes all of his money," John said, him finishing off his ice cream now. Wanda still looked confused but forgot about it the moment a kool-aid dyed Sabertooth entered the room.

Sabertooth drowsily staggered across the room and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. When he emerged a few minutes later, John stealthily had the camera set up so he could take a picture of him exiting the kitchen without him noticing. Wanda could barely hold herself in when he came out with a bowl of lucky charms, which are now keep in bountiful supply, a plastic spoon, and technicolored fur.

"Why aren't there any metal spoons anymore?" He grunted to no one in particular.

"I d'ink Petey left dem outside," came a response from the chimney.

Sabertooth looked at Remy's face amidst the brick chimney. "How did he get in the chimney?"

All Wanda could do was raise her hand. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth she would never be able to stop laughing.

The big cat glanced at Wanda and realized that something definitely wasn't right. Then he remembered that he didn't care. He had his lucky charms and his bed was getting cold. He grunted in response and walked back to his room without looking at a mirror.

As soon as they heard the door shut, all three burst out in laughter.

"You do know dat tomorrow, when Sabertooth realizes dat he is tie-dyed, you're dead."

John shrugged. "I don't plan on being here. I think I'll take a trip to town. Maybe to visit a certain red witch, huh Wanda. What do you say we go out tomorrow?"

"John-dear," Wanda said mockingly, "I wouldn't date an imbecile like you if Magneto could ONLY be killed after I went on a date with you."

"Boyfriend, huh?" John raised his eyebrow.

"No," she said. Wanda changed the subject before she could change her mind, "I think it is about time we got Remy out of the chimney."

John was a little crushed and didn't press the subject further. The walked over to the fireplace. "Now how in the world do we do this?"

* * *

**A/N**: Ok, I need some feedback. Would you guys rather have John know all along that Magneto is Wanda's father or just have him be clueless until her dad catches them somewhere? So far I've been careful to make sure that Wanda addresses her dad as Magneto, and it is before The Toad, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, so it could be possible that he doesn't know. What do you think is believable and what do you want to see?

I also need suggestion for a dream Rogue is going to have in the next chapter.


	8. Dreams, Toads, and Teletubies

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

St. John is not, by any means, a typical Australian or even a representative of Australians, so please do not journey to Australia expecting to find a whole bunch of trouble-making people to play with matches with. Especially in the forests there 'cause if you burnt those down I would have to hunt you down and beat you with a stick (just kidding but I would be enraged beyond words).

* * *

_thoughts_

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Eight - Dreams, Toads and Teletubies**

Rogue lazily looked at the clock from her position behind the counter: _3:33. It's only 3:33. Yesterday this place was streaming with customers 'til 6 o' so. Damn lull. Somebody betteh come in soon or Ah'll feel required ta start on mah homework, and then Ah will not be a happy camper_. Rogue put her elbow on the counter and laid her head in her hand. _Somebody, anybody, please come in an' give meh somethin' ta do_, she thought again, but this time she was hoping for someone in particular, though she would never admit it.

Several minutes passed; no one came through the door. Rogue continued to stare intently at the door. Rogue felt her eyelids drooping from tired boredom and fought to stay awake. Then she thought she heard the familiar jingle of the bells above the door and looked up, feeling wide awake.

"Hello, chere," Remy greeted her as he strolled in. "Whatcha be doin' cooped up dere behind dat counter? A beautiful fille like you should be out here livin'."

"Ah can't just leave, Remy," Rogue answered. "Ah gotta work."

"Well, you can at least grant me de pleasure of one dance." Remy held out his hand for her to take. It was only then that Rogue noticed that his dress was a little formal and out of date.

"Ya just play some extra in a _Gone with the Wind_ sequel o' somethin', swamp rat?"

A teasing grin appeared on Remy's face. "Like you should talk," he said and pointed to Rogues own outfit. She looked down. Gone were her black gothic clothes. They were replaced with several petticoats, a corset, and a very heavy formal gown that looked suspiciously similar to a dress Scarlet O'hera wore in the movie except the colors were deep and matched Rogue's gothic style. Even her black biker gloves had morphed into long, formal jet black gloves to match.

"What...?!?" Rogue started but she was stopped by a white gloved finger to her lips.

"Sshhh. Don' talk, just dance," the Cajun told her and took her right hand in his left and put his other hand around her waist. They began to waltz around the room. Rogue found herself lost in the movement and then in his mesmerizing red on black eyes.

"A girl could get used to this," she said. Remy only smiled. He then spun Rogue around but their hands lost contact, and Rogue found herself at the top of a stairway looking down at Remy in front of an open door.

"Where do ya think you're goin', swamp rat?" Rogue asked, a little unsure of herself.

"I'm leavin'," was his reply.

"But ah don't understand," Rogue pleaded. "Why are ya leavin' so soon?"

"I can' be wit' you, not really. Dere will always be a distance between us. You were right, platonic relationships don' work out; I was a fool ta try. You won't let nobody in. So I'm leavin'."

"But, no, don' go, Remy please," Rogue was halfway down the stairs. "Ah'm sorry, don' leave me here alone, please! What will ah do here all alone, without ya?"

Remy sighed. "Frankly, mon chere, I don' give a damn," he lied and shut the door.

With the slam of the door Rogue felt the room grow cold and ice over. "How dare he lead meh on like that an' then leave meh?!" She heard her voice echo throughout the ice cavern she created. The echo made her realize how alone she really was. She crossed her arms and tried to rub them warm. "For all those petticoats ah'm wearin' it sure is cold," Rogue's voice echoed again. The silence was getting to her. "Remy!" she called. Mist was filling the cavern. "Remy are ya there?" she called again. Silence followed. "Come back please!" This time Rogue heard a muffled call from somewhere to her left.

"Remy?!" she called again and ran toward the source of the sound. Rogue came upon a clearing in the mist, but Remy was not there. Three waist-high penguins stood there, looking expectantly at her.

"What?!" she asked irately.

The first penguin then spoke, "Open."

Rogue's jaw dropped and her glaze journeyed to the second penguin who said, "Love."

"Slide," was the third penguin's one word response. Then all three penguins waddled over to a hole in the wall and one by one slid down the ice slide.

Rogue looked around. No more penguins, no more nothing. "What the hell," she shrugged and followed the penguins down the slide head first.

Ahead of her she saw a sand pit, and at the last minute she put her arms out so she wouldn't get a mouthful of sand. Then all of a sudden, Rogue wasn't Rogue anymore. She was someone else watching a younger version of herself.

"Come on, Mama," she saw her five-year-old self get up and run from the slide toward the swing set in Irene's backyard. "Push me!" the girl with the auburn and white pigtails ordered.

"My, oh, my, Irene," Rogue said, but it wasn't Rogue's voice nor her body because she was over on the swing kicking her short legs, desperately trying to get some momentum going. "Did we raise a spoiled little girl with no manners?" She looked over to the blind brunette sitting underneath a shady oak tree.

After taking another sip of her ice tea, Irene replied, "Now, I don't think so. We may have raised a Rogue child, but last time I checked she knew her please and thank yous."

The child in the swing finally understood what her parents were getting at, "Mama, will ya PLEASE push me in the swing? Real high too?" The striped girl flashed an innocent smile.

"All right," the woman kiddy-Rogue addressed as Mama answered and walked behind the swing and began pushing. All of a sudden Rogue was no longer in "Mama's" body but in her own and really enjoying the breeze created by the swinging which cooled her down some from the Mississippi sun. _Almost like flyin'_, she thought.

The Rogue-child heard Irene and "Mama" talking to each other. They sounded sad. She didn't understand why, it was a beautiful day, they just had ice cream, and were now playing outside. Rogue again felt herself leave the Rogue-child's perspective and enter back in "Mama's."

"Don't you think I know that, Irene?!" "Mama" shot at the precog. "It's just, I've already lost my son, I don't want to be forced out of her life too! Isn't there any other way...?"

"No, I'm sorry Raven. It is best that you leave. He is searching for you and her," Irene replied. "Mama" started crying and the two embraced. "You will reenter her life someday. Just keep holding onto that."

"MAMA!!" the Rogue-child cried as her swing had almost come to a holt.

"I'm sorry," "Mama" walked back over to the pigtailed girl and looked her straight in the eyes. "It's just that I have to leave soon for a really long time and I'm going to miss you and Irene very much."

The Rogue-child didn't understand what "Mama" was saying, "When will ya be back?" The Rogue-child's eyes lit up for a second. "Will ya send meh a postcard?!! Ah love ta get mail!!!"

Rogue could feel the smile beneath the tears on "Mama's" face. "No, child," she said. "I'm going somewhere where I can't write you and I don't know when I'll be back."

"Why not? Haven't ya bought ya return bus ticket yet? Ah was scared the first time ah did too, but there was nothin' ta be scared of..." the innocence of the Rogue-child was killing her.

"No, you don't understand, I can't come back," she snapped at the kid.

The Rogue-child started to cry at her "Mama's" harsh tone, and "Mama" embraced her for the last time. "Bye, my darling, Rogue." "Mama" picked the Rogue-child up and handed her to Irene. She turned her back on the child and walked away.

"NNOOOO, MAMA!!! DON'T GO!!!" the Rogue-child cried.

The sound of jingling bells woke Rogue up from her slumber. Her eyes flew open. Rogue happened to glance at her hand and thru the open back of her biker glove she could of sworn that her hand was blue instead of its usual pasty white. She blinked again and pulled off her glove. Her hand looked normal now. She shrugged and looked over the the clock: 3:42. _Nine minutes, huh. Gawd was that weird. That's the last time ah ever eat Kitty's cooking and watch _Fight Club_. No, there's no sense in punishing_ Fight Club_. I just won't eat anything Kitty makes anymore_. Rogue prepared herself to help a customer and didn't notice the three ice penguin sculptures melting by the cash register nor the think layer of ice melting on the floor or the wall behind her.

She looked up at the customer coming in. He was wearing a black T-shirt with "Front End Loader" written white lettering on the front, jeans and a denim jacket. His strawberry blond hair was spiked randomly over his head, and he held a white envelope in his hand.

"Can Ah help ya, fireboy?" Rogue asked St. John.

"Yep, you can read this," he said as he tossed the envelope on the counter. "And it's Pyro to my enemies, but you can call me John." The flame-lover winked at her.

Rogue saw the flirtation and was less than amused. "Ya got somethin' in your eye, 'John'?" she asked. "'cause if it happens again my fist will be glad ta get it out for ya."

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," he responded. There was silence between the two of them for several seconds. "Are you gonna open the letter or do I have to stand here all night?"

Rogue cast a suspicious glance at the envelope sitting on the counter. "What is it? It isn't gonna blow up on meh, is it?"

"What is it with me and paranoid women lately?!" John exclaimed, causing Rogue to raise an eyebrow at him. "No, it's not booby trapped, there is no homing beacon on it, Magneto is not trying to trap you, aliens will not be dropping in from the sky, and Mulder and Scully will not be interviewing you."

"Okay," Rogue said as she dismissed the previous comment and grabbed the letter off the counter. Her name was inscribed on the front in simple black script. "Who's it from?" was the next question she asked.

"It's from Remy," John started as Rogue opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. "He want to confess his undying love for you and how he wants you to run away with him to Vegas."

"Yeah, right," Rogue responded and started reading the letter. She didn't get past "Mon chere" before she was reminded of her dream. She shook it off. Then she put the letter down and asked Pyro another question. "Why didn' he come here himself an' give it ta me?"

"Yeah, well, about that. He's kinda laid up for a while. He said he wouldn't kick my ass later if I delivered it to you. Ya see, last night..." John babbled until he heard the door jingle again. This time a woman walked in wearing a blood red tank top, black low-riddin' pants, combat boots, and more jewelry than you could shake a stick at. "Speak of the devil. I think this young, beautiful lady here can explain his predicament better than I can."

"Explain what, John-boy?" Wanda Maximoff inquired as she strolled in.

"What happened to Remy," St. John responded.

"Why does she care?" the witch asked.

"She's dating him."

"Ah am not!!!" Rogue argued. "He just sent meh this letter -"

"A _love_ letter," John interjected to Wanda.

"This letter via the moron messenger over there/" Rogue continued as she grew irate and louder, "an' Ah was wonderin' why he didn't come here himself."

"Oh, I see," Wanda responded as she winked at John. "Since you are dying to know, he sprained his ankle and is laid up for a couple days."

"How in the world did he do that?" the letter recipient asked.

"Fell down a chimney."

"What? Were you guys actin' out Mary Poppins or somethin'?"

"No, he was trying to make a Santa Claus exit."

"A what?"

"He was going up the chimney to make like Santa Claus," Wanda explained but Rogue still looked confused.

Recognizing Rogue's expression, John tried to explain further. "You know, the big, round, jolly guy who leaves present for good children on Christmas Eve and enters and exits through the chimney. You must have been on naughty kid to never know about Santa Claus." A flash of her young self and Irene sitting around a Christmas tree with another woman she couldn't quite remember hit Rogue. She brushed it back and turned her attention back to John and Wanda.

"No, really? A Santa Claus?" Rogue asked sarcastically. "Ah know who Santa is, Ah just don't understand why an' how Remy would want ta go up a chimney."

"I don't think he really WANTED to go up the chimney," Wanda reminisced. "No, I think he said 'Oh, no' right before going up, didn't he, John?"

"I have no idea, I was too busy laughing my ass off," John related.

"In your smurf underwear," Wanda teased and laughed. Wanda did not notice it but since the whole conversation had started she had been moving closer and closer to St. John. Now they were a few centimeters apart and talking about smurf underwear. This was too much for Rogue to handle.

"Hold up one second here!!" Rogue interrupted their conversion before it got in be a "too much information" session. "Are yal two datin' o' somethin'?"

"No!" Wanda exclaimed and straightened up but still nearly touching John. "What Twilight Zone episode did you pull that out of?!"

"It's just that ya're talkin' about John's underwear an' ya have been movin' closer ta one another ever since ya got here an' ya're so close right now Ah don't think Ah could pry ya apart with a crowbar," Rogue exaggerated on the last part.

Like shrapnel, Wanda had moved away from John. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Whateveh," Rogue sighed and moved back to the strange story they were telling. "So let me get this straight. You," Rogue pointed at Wanda, "were at Magneto's base..."

"To kill him." the witch finished quickly. "Yes, but he wasn't there. I definitely didn't go there to see John if that is what you were implying," she added even quicker. "I hadn't even met him yet."

"An' you," Rogue continued without commenting on Wanda's quick speak and pointed to John, "were laughin' in smurf underwear while Remy was bein' thrown up a chimney?"

"Boxers, actually. I had on what was left of my Led Zeppelin shirt after Wanda scorched it too." John confirmed Rogue's summary.

The Goth raised one eyebrow but knew better than to make any further comments about Wanda and John and smurf underwear. She knew it would invoke the witch's wrath, and she didn't feel like messing with an angry Wanda. "Ah don't think Ah even wanna know what happened to Peter.."

"I think he was hiding out in a ditch," John told her anyway. "He was remarkably frightened when all the knives in the kitchen were flying at him, and decided it would be safer out there."

"Ah said Ah didn't wanna know!" she exclaimed. "Actually, Ah'm really regretin' askin' any questions in the first place."

"If you really want to know," Wanda said, "the reason Remy fell out of the chimney was because while John and I were getting him out safely, he called me something that I will not repeat -"

"He said she looked 'almost normal' when she smiled," John whispered to Rogue.

" - so I hexed him so he'd fall and hurt himself," she finished.

"Ah don't blame you," Rogue said, "Ah woulda hurt 'em too if he called meh that. Ah'd rather be dead than considered 'normal.' Wearin' pastels in spring an' listenin' ta Britney Spears an' Creed..." Rogue and Wanda shuddered.

"The masses are scary people."

"Not ta mention kinda dumb in general. The way they wanna be like everyone else, be like 'the Jones.'"

John felt out of the conversion so he pulled a four inch by six inch packet from the pocket of his jacket. "Speaking of abnormal," he started, "who wants to see some pictures?"

"Are those are the ones from last night?!" Wanda exclaimed and snatched the pictures from John's hands. She pulled them from the envelope and began to flip through them. The first couple of pics were ones Piotr had taken to paint later. A few spider webs and trees and rivers, they were of little interest to the witch so she quickly flipped past them. She came upon the picture of John holding her in a bear hug on the floor with the identical irritate looks on their faces. Wanda tried to flip past it quickly but Rogue caught sight of it.

"What's this?" Rogue asked as she tried to pull it from Wanda's grasp. Wanda refused to relinquish the photo.

"Nothing. If you don't let go, I'll hex you into oblivion," Wanda threatened.

"If it's nothin' then why won't ya let meh see it? And isn't it kinda hard ta hex meh when ya'r hands are both holdin' the picture?" Rogue questioned and jerked the photo closer to her.

"Fine." Wanda spat and let go, releasing some tension that caused Rogue to step back. Unfortunately, Rogue slipped on the water left on the floor from her inadvertently freezing it during her daydream.

"Smooth move, Sheila," John said as he leaned over the counter to see Rogue sitting on the floor in a puddle of water. But she was successful: She had the photograph.

Rogue threw John a death glare before she took a closer look at the picture. "Ya guys sure look awfully friendly...." she commented after making sure she was out of Wanda's reach.

The witch knew what Rogue was implying. _Dammit, she's too far away for me to strangle her_. Instead she sent Rogue a look that said, "If you say one more thing implying that I'm in a relationship with fire-boy, you will be the next one I come after after I kill Magneto." Rogue, the now former champion of death glares, shuddered. Realizing that her message was received, Wanda lightened the air. "Just for that comment, I won't let you see the rest of these. And there are some good ones of your _boyfriend -_"

Now it was Rogue's turn to get angry. "He is NOT mah boyfriend!"

Wanda continued as if she didn't hear the Goth's comment, "- and some _really_ good ones of a multicolored Sabertooth."

"WHAT?! Now come on," Rogue pleaded. _A picture of a multicolored Sabertooth would be a great gift for Logan_. "Ya tease meh, ah tease ya, ah don' seriously belief ya'd date John if ya said so."

"And what is wrong with me that is so unattractive to women?" John wondered. Rogue and Wanda both turned toward John with a blank expression on their faces, stared at him for a couple seconds, then turned back to the negotiations.

John was disappointed that he did not get an answer. _I'm not misshapenly ugly, actually I've been told I have a great smile plus I'm funny...why don't I ever get the girl? Do I smell or something_? To check his hypothesis John picked up the bottom of his shirt and took a whiff. _Nope, april fresh_.

He looked back at the girls. Rogue had somehow managed to get ahold of the pics. She could not contain her laughter. There were a few dark pictures of Piotr covered in kitchen utensils huddled in a fetal position. Then there was a picture of a brick fireplace. In the next photo a couple of bricks were removed and Remy's red eyes glowed in anger from a soot faced Remy. Next, Wanda was teasing Remy: It was a side profile of Wanda pretending to kiss sooty Remy on the cheek. The next photo was a little crooked as John was holding it away from their faces and trying to take a picture of a glaring Remy and the two of them who were smiling impishly. In the next picture, both Wanda and John were each kissing one of Remy's cheeks. The expression on the Cajun's face didn't change much from photo to photo, still as sour as the first. Rogue then came to the infamous technicolored Sabertooth photo.

"Oh mah god!!" Rogue covered her mouth. "I have ta have a copy of this! Logan would love it!! And what are those?! Lucky charms?"

"I think not! I was almost killed for that prank!" John said.

"What did happen when Sabertooth realized he was an Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat?" Wanda asked John.

"Well, at about eleven this morning, the base shook with a loud roar. I already had the keys in my pocket and just took off. He chased the car for about five, six miles or so. I kept looking in my rear view mirror. It was like I was in Jurassic Park or something. I don't know what'll happen when I get back."

"So ah should just hold onta this photo in case somethin' unfortunate should happen to ya, right?"

"No, I think not," and John snatched the picture from Rogue's hand. "Wait," he reconsidered. "You can have the picture, IF you can get Wanda to go out with me."

Rogue knew this was not going to work by the expression on Wanda's face, but decided to give it a half ass try anyway, "Wanda will ya go out with John?"

"No."

Rogue shrugged, "Sorry, John, ah tried."

Wanda let out a bored sigh, handed the pictures back to John, and then decided to finish her business at "I came in here to pick up my Poe special order. Jamal called me and said it was in."

"Sure thing, Ah'll go inta the back an' get it," Rogue replied and took off to the back room.

"Poe, isn't that one of those teletubies? The red one with the circle on it's head? Sounds like some sorta girly bubble-gum pop singer to me. -" John babbled on unaware of the powerful mutant next to him getting angrier and angrier.

"NO, POE IS NOT A TELETUBIE!!!" Wanda interrupted his babble and hexed him so he jumped eight feet into the air and hit his head on the ceiling. A piece of it fell down with him as he landed on his bum.

"No need to get all hostile," John rubbed his head as he stood up. He looked at Wanda and put his 'sly 'n sexy' smile on. "But I know just the way you can make it up to me: You could go out with me sometime."

Still with a pissed look on her face Wanda turned him down. "No. Did you think that I would change my mind in a few minutes?"

Their conversation was interrupted when the bells above the door jingled again. A familiar voice sent shivers up Wanda's spine, and she shuddered for a second time that night. "There you are, baby-cakes!!" Todd Tolanski hopped into Vinyl Vintage. "When you hadn't come back to the Jeep, I got worried." Wanda started to bang her head on the counter. _I so wish I had a driver's license, but NNNOOO I had to spend most of my teenage years in an insane asylum instead of practicing driving. So when I do try and pass my driver's test I fail miserably. Road rage problem my ass. It's those damn one way streets that are the problems. 'Cause of them I'm stuck with the drool patrol driving me places_.

"Who the blazes are you?" John asked Todd. _Last night Wanda said she didn't have a boyfriend and that she wouldn't date an imbecile like me even if Magneto could only be killed after she went on one date with me. So what the heck is this short kid who REALLY needs to take a shower doin' callin' her pet names? Though I could see her not wanting to brag about having a boyfriend like him. But why in the world would she date this frog-boy over me?_

"I'm Todd Tolanski, yo," the boy from his crouched position on the floor held out an open hand toward John. John took it reluctantly and afterwards resisted the urge to run to the bathroom screaming.

"Toad," Wanda finally spoke with an irritated tone, "get your slimmy self back out to the jeep, I'll be there in five minutes."

"That's ok, sugarpie," Todd responded sweetly, "I'll just browse 'round here a bit and wait for you. It's starting to get dark and I wouldn't want you to walk down the street along at night, cupcake."

Wanda prepared to throw a hex bolt at Todd when John opened his mouth, luckily for Todd but not so lucky for John: "So he's why you refuse to go out with me. I never figured you to be a sucker for pet names, 'baby-cakes.'" Wanda's anger turned from Todd to John and started to elevate him.

But surprisingly he was saved by the Toad who said, "Is that true, cuddle-bunny?"

Wanda dropped John instantly at the words 'cuddle-bunny' and now Todd was floating. "I AM NOT YOUR CUDDLE-BUNNY OR YOUR ANYTHING FOR THAT MATTER, YOU WARPED, LOVE-SICK AMPHIBIAN!!" Wanda brought her hand across her chest and started to hurl Todd out the window of the store with a fling of her arm when Rogue emerged from the backroom.

"NO, WANDA!! STOP!!" She shouted.

Wanda stopped Todd just inches from the window pane and looked over her shoulder toward Rogue. "WHAT?!"

"Jamal said that if ya break another window, he'll have ta make you pay for it," she explained.

"Another window? She does this often?!" John exclaimed from his position still on the floor where Wanda dropped him.

"Fine," the witch stated. She then drew her arm back across her chest, and Todd moved back into the store. He released a sigh of relief as he thought Wanda would put him back on the ground. Instead he remained floating there as she put her arm down and walked over to the front door. Wanda held it open then flung her arm out, and subsequently Todd went flying out of the store and was entangled in a lamp post outside. Unfortunately at that same time Sly, another Vinyl Vintage employee, was trying to make his way in.

"Hey, look out Wanda!," Sly yelled as he ducked to miss colliding with Todd body. He then stood up and looked around the store. "Wow, all the windows are intact! Good job, Wanda!"

John looked seriously at Sly. "No, guys, honestly, how many times does this happen?"

"More than once, less than infinity," was Sly's curt replied and he waltzed over to the cash register. "Just stopped it to pick up the book I forgot." As he reached for it, Sly noticed the three ice penguins. He picked one up. "Cool, who did these?"

Rogue stared at the ice figurines. _Penguins….three….what the HELL is goin' on?!_ "Ah don't know, it wasn't meh."

"Huh," Sly grunted and grabbed his book. "The mystery must ensue then. Later." And with a nod to Wanda and John, the punk rocker exited.

Wanda walked back over to Rogue who was behind the counter with her special order.

"Thanks again for not using the window this time," Rogue said.

Wanda nodded, grabbed her purchase from the Goth and started to head out. John, of course, got in her way. Big mistake. "So how long have you and the frog prince been dating, 'cuddle-bunny?'"

Wanda glared at him and wondered how stupid he actually was. John found himself raised off the ground. "I think I'd rather date you than HIM!"

"Then why don't you, love?" John asked wondering why he was still in mid-air.

"'Cause I'd much rather do this."

Wanda brought back her arm again, and Rogue, realizing what was going to happen, shouted, "NOT THE WINDOW!"

Wanda let John fly across the store toward the closed door. At the last moment she wiggled her fingers and the door popped open. John found himself ensnared in a lamppost next to Todd.

Wanda strutted out of Vinyl Vintage and found herself very amused with the sight of the two village idiots tied up in the streetlight together.

"What did I say?" John pleaded to know.

The Scarlet Witch lowered him so she could look him straight in the eye. "A word of advice for you: 'You can't talk to a psycho like a normal human being,'" she quoted from her favorite Poe song. And with that she turned and started to leave.

John yelled after her, "What does that mean?! You aren't really gonna leave me tied up like this with frog-legs here, are you?! Come on. He smells!" Then John changed tactics, "COME ON!! If I have to be stuck up here I'd much rather it be with you!! At least you smell good! Like cinnamon, chocolate, and..and...mischief!" Wanda paused at the obscure comment, but shortly continued walking around the corner, where she stopped once out of sight but still in earshot.

"I can't believe she left me up here!" John continued to exclaim.

"Well, she has to come back for me, 'cause I have the keys to the jeep and -" Todd reasoned until his thoughts were interrupted by the starting of the jeep parked around the same corner where Wanda had headed, which she hotwired with her powers from her spot around the corner.

"You were saying, frog-boy?"

"My codename isn't frog-boy, Crocidile Hunter, it's Toad."

"What did you call me??!!! Oh your gonna pay for that one once I get outta here. If only I still had my ute...er truck, I'd run you over like the Cane Toad you are." He tried to face the direction where Wanda had headed. "Wanda!!"

"My honey-muffin will come back for me, she just likes to play hard-to-get," the disillusioned Todd said. "She would never leave me here for long, but I'm not sure how lucky you'll be, man, since you're one of Magneto's stooges and all. I'm surprised you're only tied up with the light post. I'd figure she'd have disemboweled you by now."

Wanda also wondered why she hadn't disemboweled John yet. _He obviously deserved it with all the idiotic comments he makes_. The truth was a part of John was growing on Wanda. He could make her laugh in more than an "I'm making you suffer" kinda way. And he wasn't half bad looking either. _Nah, I can't be attracted to him. I just must be having a good day. But since when do I have good days that don't involve disemboweling people? You're putting too much thought in this Wanda._ She tuned back into John and Todd's conversation but was no longer as amused at their bickering. She peered at the two from the corner of the building. Wanda had to hold back another giggle as she saw the look on John's face as Todd was trying to spit goop at him. Wanda waved her hand in their general direction, and the lamppost reverted back to its normal form, dropping its occupants to the ground.

Todd gave John an 'I told you so' look as Wanda pull the jeep toward Vinyl Vintage. But instead of stopping, she buzzed them took off toward home. Todd looked around but John was already in the Acolyte's vehicle pulling out. He solemnly started hopping home.

A few minutes later, Todd caught sight of the Jeep pulling up beside him. "I knew you wouldn't forget me, sweet -" Todd had started to say before he actually saw who the driver of the vehicle was.

"Just get yourself into the jeep, buttercup," Lance mocked. "I can't believe you let _Wanda_ drive my jeep! You're lucky she didn't damage it. There wouldn't be anything left of you!" Todd just shrugged and hopped it, suffering through Lance's ranting all the way back to the brotherhood house.

* * *

Back in Vinyl Vintage, business picked up a bit and Rogue totally forgot about the letter from Remy. Jamal caught site of it when he was coming in for the closer shift.

"Don't forget this, Rogue." Jamal casually jogged halfway to the front doors and handed her the letter.

"Thanks," she replied thoughtfully. "Ah'll catch ya later."

It was a nice night so Rogue waited for her ride outside. She fingered the envelope in her hands awhile before she opened it. Under the streetlight and the moonlight she read.

Mon Chere,

I don't know what to write to you. All I know is that as soon as I got back to base, you were the second thing I thought of (Sorry, the first was whether John had torched the base while we were gone). I wanted to pick up the phone and hear your sweet southern tongue at the other end, but I didn't think that was quite appropriate bein' on opposing mutant teams and all. I don't know why I'm doing this. I guess it's just that you're the first fille in a long time that has struck a cord with me. I wish we could see each other again under more intimate circumstances. I was serious before….Hold on a second. There's a lotta noise comin' from the other room and somethin' just hit my door. I'll be right back.

And the letter ended there. _The chimney incident must have happened right then_. Rogue smirked at the thought of Remy at Wanda's mercy and the photographs of him in the chimney. Just then the X-Jeep pulled up and Rogue got in without wiping the smirk off her face. _Ah think Ah'll be seein' more of the Cajun soon_.

* * *

A/N: Man, I had planned to get this out last weekend but the power went out from Friday night 'til Sunday night. It was quite an adventure and then I still had class on Monday.

Technically this is Monday but I haven't gone to bed yet so in my world I still met my Sunday deadline. Sorry that there is going to be such a long time 'fore the next update. I just can't handle my work load and doing this for fun during my free time 'cause, well, I don't have any free time. I'll still be reading and reviewing hopefully. Next time I talk about taking 18 credit hours, working two jobs(one of which doesn't even pay!), and being the president of a student club, slap some sense into me PLEASE!! The earliest your gonna see a new installment is May 10th. Take care 'til then!!


	9. Thank God Friday Is Over

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

St. John is not, by any means, a typical Australian or even a representative of Australians, so please do not journey to Australia expecting to find a whole bunch of trouble-making people to play with matches with. Especially in the forests there 'cause if you burnt those down I would have to hunt you down and beat you with a stick (just kidding but I would be enraged beyond words).

* * *

_thoughts_

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Nine - Thank God Friday Is Over!**

"Here's your change, kid," said Rogue to the customer as she handed him a few dollars and a bag of music paraphernalia. Vinyl Vintage had been busy all Friday afternoon. Rogue looked around the store at the six remaining customers. _Ah think Ah already talked ta 'em all. Good. Ah don't wanna pretend that Ah care 'bout findin' the perfect CD for 'em anymore. Ah musta been high when ah desided ta work here. This much forced people interaction makes meh wanna bang mah head up against the wall_. The bells above the front door jingled for what seemed to Rogue as the hundredth time that day, and three people entered. Rogue groaned. _Why must everyone get paid on the same day?!_ Rogue nodded at the new customers when they looked in her direction. _There, that was good enough. They know Ah exist, an' if they really want somethin' they'll have ta come up an' ask me_.

Rogue heard her Deftones CD come to an end. She walked over to the stereo system and switched CD's. She smirked when she saw everyone jump at the sound of Marilyn Manson screeching through the speakers. _They'll come up an' ask meh, if they dare ta_.

After ruffling through her bag for a few minutes, Rogue pulled out a tattered sci-fi/fantasy novel. She sat on the stool behind the counter and started reading. Just when she had been reading long enough to immerse herself in the dark, intense world her book was set in, she heard those annoying bells above the door again. _Ah'm gonna end up stranglin' someone with those damn bells before Ah'm done workin' here. Ah'm not even gonna look up this time. They can just approach meh at their own risk_.

Rogue tried to find her place in her book again, but she couldn't concentrate on the book anymore. She had this creepy feeling that someone was too close for comfort. After fighting the urge to look up for another minute, she relented. The book was dog-eared for future reference and an annoyed Rogue glanced up. Her glaze was met by two of her own reflections in the sunglasses of a boy only mere inches from her face.

"Hello, chere," Remy said quietly in his deep sexy voice.

Rogue, the champion ice queen, replied, "Oh, it's just you." _Play it cool, girl. Don't let him know you were hoping he'd stop by. Ya are tamed by no man. Ya won' even wait by the phone for a call_. Rogue leisurely tossed her book on the counter and ran her hands through her hair. "What do ya want this time, swamp rat?"

Her cold greeting hurt Remy on the inside, but he was not going to give up his quest. _She wants to play hard-to-get, fine by me. I don' d'ink I'd want it any other way_. "Same thing as last time. What do you say? You, moi, and Saturday night. I guarantee it'll be da best date you've ever had."

"Ya don't have a lotta competition there, bein' that Ah've never been on a date 'fore."

Remy was surprised that her response did not include any sort of rejection, but, in a way, implied a positive response. His heart leap, and he smiled his sweet smile at Rogue. "So is dat a 'yes,' chere?"

"No, that definitely was not a 'yes.'Ah was just commentin' on a hypothetical situation. 'Sides, wouldn't Mrs. Claus be jealous?" Rogue eluded to his chimney predicament earlier that week.

Remy dropped his head so Rogue wouldn't see him blush. "You heard 'bout dat?"

"Ah heard it from Wanda an' John themselves. Serves ya right for calling a self-proclaimed outcast o' society 'normal,'" Rogue scolded.

"Actually, callin' her normal was what got me outta da chimney, callin' her kinky was what got me in it," Remy clarified. "Anyway, I don' d'ink Madam Claus would mind if I took one beautiful lady out dis Saturday, 'specially if she don' find out 'bout it," he played around with the scenario.

"Sorry, Remy, but Ah don' like bein' the other woman."

A couple of the customers cautiously approached the scary Goth who was listening to Marilyn Manson. "Ya'll ready to check out?" They nodded. Remy stepped to the side to make room for them.

A few minutes later, the customers exit was signaled with the ringing of the bells. Remy moved back to his previous location, in front of Rogue, but not before the bells rung again, this time signaled an entrance. And not just the entrance of two regular customers. The entrance of two out of place people in the used CD store.

The Cajun noticed the irritated look return to Rogue's face as the new customers entered. He turned around to take a look. The woman was tall, slender, with long, thick, red hair that hung down to her waist and she was preppy, yet casually dressed. The guy was about the same height with non-descript brown hair, strangely colored red sunglasses, and dressed in what Remy could only describe as "catolog-ordered outfit from American Eagle."

"Hey, Rogue!" the red-head cheerfully called to the Goth as she grabbed the other boy's hand. Rogue was less than amused, Remy noticed. Actually he thought he saw a little pain behind the ice queen's eyes when the red-head grabbed Shades' hand; maybe a little jealousy. He looked back and forth from Rogue to the guy with the sunglasses. _No way. Rogue has a crush on dis dweeb?! You've got ta be kiddin' me_.

"Hey, Jean, Scott," she said unemotionally and nodded to both as she said their names. "What do ya need?"

"Nothing. We just came to see how things were getting along at work for you," Scott Summers announced.

Rogue looked at them, well, actually, it was almost as she was trying to see through them. "So, really, the Professor asked ya'll ta check up on meh."

An offended look came across Jean Grey's face. "Rogue! I can't believe you. We're just checking out where you work and saying hi."

Rogue was unconvinced. "Why'd the Professor feel the need ta check up on meh, Jean?"

Luckily, Jean was saved by Remy's intervention. "Dis dat Jean Grey you were talkin' 'bout bein' de most beautiful girl in town de other day?" Jean was flattered by the comment, and was about to thank Rogue when Remy looked intently at Rogue and finished his statement: "She's got nothin' on you, chere."

Jean kept her cool. _I don't need flattery from handsome, charming strangers. I have a boyfriend_.

Scott, at realizing Remy's presence, studied the Cajun. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Remy shrugged. "Maybe." He did not want to get into some fight here. _An' while beatin' up this tight ass Rogue for some odd reason has a crush on might feel good, I donna d'ink dat she would be so eager ta go out wit' me tomorrow if I did_. Remy leaned up against the counter and pulled out a deck of cards. He started shuffling, anxiously awaiting the couple's exit so he could get back to the wooing.

Silence, well, except for Marilyn, fell between them. Scott continued to stare at Remy, trying to figure out where he knows him from. _Tall, trench coat, cards....cards_... It hits him like a bag of bricks. "You're one of Magneto's goons!!" Remy stood up straight and prepared to defend himself. Scott reached up to the side of his glasses. Jean also prepared for a fight. "What is Magneto up to, and what does it have to do with Rogue?" Scott said in his most menacing tone.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Excuse meh, fellas, but ah gotta job ta do here." Rogue pointed to the line forming behind the conflict.

"Oh, sure." They mumbled and moved out of the way to continue their confrontation.

"What does Magneto want with Rogue?"

"Mine bein' here has nothin' ta do wit' Magneto." Remy's eyes glowed with anger from behind his glasses.

"Then what do you want with Rogue?" Jean asked.

"Her company."

"I won't let you take her anywhere." Scott grew even more protective.

"Dat's up to her, mon ami, not you." Remy looked to Rogue, who was still ringing up customers. "You never did give me a straight answer: You, me, Saturday night."

"In a minute, Remy," Rogue spat as she grabbed a paper bag and shoved some cd's inside. Another customer approached.

Scott and Jean's eyes widened. Scott snickered. "You can't actually believe that she would go out with you?"

That pissed Remy off. "An' why de hell not?!"

"You're the enemy!" Scott exclaimed like it was some obvious reason with no grey areas or polka dots.

"An' you're a dick!" Remy yelled back. "Dis good guy/bad guy stuff never gets old to you, does it?"

"Well if the shoe fits," Jean mumbled.

Remy brought a charged card back, preparing to throw it at them. Rogue had just finished up with the last in the line of customers. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair before looking over at Remy, Jean and Scott. She leapt over the counter and grabbed Remy's hand before he released.

"Just what in the blue blazes do ya'll think you're doin'?!"

"Sorry," Remy said and decharged the card. _Better to apologize now and look better than Red and Shades_.

Scott sneered. "You're crazy to think that Rogue would ever go out with you. She has much better taste than that."

Rogue turned angrily to Scott. "An' what makes ya think ya know what my taste in men is, Scott?"

"I know you, Rogue. He's an arrogant, egotistical flirt who works for Magneto, for God's sake," Scott argued.

"Really, Rogue, to go from liking Scott to dating this guy is a little extreme. It is obviously an act of rebellion," Jean accidentally revealed too much. Her hand flew over her mouth.

Scott blushed, Rogue fumed. "An' how the hell did ya know Ah _used ta_ have a thing for Scott?! Ya've been pokin' around people's heads for fun, now! Is that why you're here? Ya went snoopin' an' decided ya'd have ta see Remy for yourself!" Rogue got right up in Jean's face.

"No! You know I don't do that, Rogue." Jean took a step back, and when Rogue followed suit, she was blocked but a telekinetic barrier.

"Ya've done it before!"

"That was an accident! My powers were out of control!" Jean defended herself. "And everyone knew about your crush on Scott, so don't even go there! And as for him," indicating Remy, "I found this little love letter on the floor of the Jeep and we were all a little concerned for your safety!"

The striped teen snatched the envelope out of Jean's hands and continued the verbal assault, "We?! Who's 'we'? Jean remained silent, refusing comment on the accusation. "Ya'll need ta learn how ta mind your own business!!"

"Maybe you shouldn't leave your personal stuff all over the place! I mean, how was I supposed to know whose letter that was?!"

Remy, who had been silently observing the arguement along with Scott, chimed in, "I d'ink the name 'Rogue' on de outside of de envelope would have been a good clue."

"You stay outta this!" Jean spat at Remy.

"Why should he? He's involved in this now too," Rogue threw at Jean.

"What? You depend on your boy toy to protect you?" Jean knew that comment would strike a nerve.

"Ah can take care of myself!!" Rogue and Jean's faces were just centimeters apart. "And he ain't mah anythin'!"

"Do you think we should do anything to stop this?" Scott asked Remy.

"No. Actually I was thinkin' 'bout gettin' some mud," Remy said, more to himself than to Scott. Scott gave Remy a funny look, not that anyone could tell behind his sunglasses. He then turned back to the argument between Jean and Rogue and shrugged and nodded.

Another bell rang but this one was singular and coming from the cash register area. Rogue was brought out of her glaring contest with Jean and looked toward the counter. Another line of customers had formed.

"Ah don' have time for this!" Rogue said to Jean and went back behind the counter. "Ya'll said your 'hi's' now ah think it's time ya leave."

"I'm not leaving until he leaves." Scott did not trust the Cajun with Rogue.

"Will ya stop actin' like ah'm a baby? Ah can take care of myself!" Rogue pleaded. Scott crossed his arms and would not budge. Rogue looked at Remy, beggin' him to leave with her eyes.

Remy crossed his arms, same as Scott, "I'm not leavin' 'til I get an answer to my question."

Rogue sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "Ya know, Remy," Rogue said in a tone that Jean and Scott already knew the answer to the question. Or did they? "With what happened today, ah don' think now is a good time."

"But I don' want you to go out with me now; I want you to go out with me tomorrow." Remy tried to lighten her attitude.

Rogue considered it. Her thoughts were interrupted by a customer in a hurry. "Excuse me, I need my change."

"Oh, yeah," Rogue handed her a couple bills and some coins, which the customer proceeded to count in front of her.

"Hey, this is 42 cents." Rogue gave the customer a blank look. "I should have gotten 53?!"

"Sorry." Rogue gave her another dime. "Don't see why your complainin', 42 is the better number."

"But 42 is less than 53," Jean stated.

"But 6 by 9 is 42," Rogue replied, knowing that Jean would never understand the origin of the statement.

"Hey Roguey," Remy tried to get her attention back.

"Don't call meh that."

"Yes or no?"

"42."

"42? What kind of an answer is dat?"

Between customers, Rogue ruffled through her bookbag and pulled out a small book that had a picture of a green smily face sticking it's tongue out on the cover as well as the words "Don't Panic." She inconspicuously wrote "yes, VV 7pm" at the end of the Deep Thought chapter, then handed it to the confused Cajun.

"Here, ah need it back, it's Kurt's. He made me read it."

"So, I'm supposed to read the book on Saturday night instead of take you out?" Remy questioned.

"No, bayou boy, the significance of the answer 42 is in that book."

"I don' get it." Remy stared at the funny looking book in his hands.

"Just read it. Now will ya'll leave an' let meh have some peace?"

The three filled out of the store: Remy first, staring at the book he held in his hands; then Jean who was trying to contact Kurt to understand the significance of 42, but Kurt was blocking her; and then Scott.

"Wait, no, 6 by 9 is 54.." Scott mused on his way out.

* * *

Rogue was finally able to stomp into her room around 11 o'clock that night. Vinyl Vintage was still busy by the time Jamal showed up for the closing shift that she had stayed an extra hour and a half to handle customers. And then, on the way home, there was a huge car accident and Logan and she had to take a three mile detour to get back to the mansion.

"Thank Gawd Friday is over!" Rogue let out an exasperated sigh as she tossed her bookbag across the bedroom. She threw her body down on her bed with equal force. _Then after gettin' home two hours late, ah had ta listen ta the Professor lecture meh on respect an' other stuff no one 'round here gives meh an' then he goes into how he an' Jean an' Scott are just concerned for my wellbein' an' don't want me ta get hurt. Blah, blah, blah. How can anyone talk 'bout that for _twohours straight_!! Ah should be grateful. At least he didn' pull out the star maps this time_ (1). _Ah didn't get grounded either. Jeannie was rootin' for it, ah could tell. Ah got off with a "Just be careful and let us know if you need some help."_

Ah just wish ah could get some privacy around here. No one bothered meh at the brotherhood house. But no one cared ta, either. Sigh, why do lovin', honest people have ta be so smootherin'? Let meh breathe! Let meh live! Let meh be! Am ah askin' too much?

Rogue's thoughts were interrupted by the unusual sight of a pissed Kitty phasing through the door. Seeing Kitty phase into their room was nothing that surprised or even startled Rogue anymore, but seeing Kitty upset was unusual.

"I can't believe him," Kitty vented.

"Who, Kitty?" Rogue asked. _Might as well add someone else's misery to my day_.

"Lance!" She growled and paced back and forth for awhile before sitting down on her bed. Rogue thought that was going to be the end of the listening roommate session for today, but Kitty started up again.

"You know how, like, you think you know a person and that they, like, know you, and then, one day you realize that you were totally wrong, and they have no idea who you are?"

Turning her head toward the Chicago native, Rogue answered, "What?! Kitty, Ah am definitely not the relationship specialist in the house, so if ya wanna tell meh your problems, then you're gonna have ta do better than that."

"Ok, tonight, Lance and I had a date." Kitty illustrated the scenario. "First, all he did was complain about how Wanda drove his Jeep the other day and how she killed some insignificant part of the engine or something. And then I had gotten us tickets to go see _Kiss Me Kate_ at the Bayville Player's Theatre. So we get there and Lance didn't realize it was a play. He thought it was a movie, which is totally understandable 'cause it's, like, an old movie theater. So, anyway, then we were sitting down and halfway through the first song he suddenly realized it was a musical and felt he needed to announce it to the rest of the audience! I was so embarrassed. Afterwards he apologized, so you know, all's forgiven, right? No, he goes on to ask me why we had to go to the stupid musical in the first place, why couldn't we just go to the mall like usual. I told him that I wanted to do something different and that I _liked_ the musical. Then he was like, 'But different stuff happens at the mall, like sales, you like those.' I couldn't believe it. I told him that I was from _Chicago_ and that I need a little, like, culture in my life, and that I wasn't all shopping malls and pink fuzzies. He almost got me with, 'I know, you're really smart too,' but then he added, 'but I like the shopping mall you.' What's _that_ suppose to mean?! Does he just like hanging out at the mall with me 'cause we can talk there or 'cause he can show me off or what?! Or does he just like that part of me that is all cute and obsessed with shoes?! I don't understand!" was Kitty's last call before she plopped her face into her pillow. Kitty turned her face from the pillow to look at Rogue. "You know, in some ways it's almost as if we've grown out of each other. Like, now that we really know each other, we are kinda bored with each other. That's kinda why I wanted to go to the theater tonight, but that plan majority backfired. What do you think, Rogue?"

The Goth yawned, "Ah don't know Kit, sounds ta meh like your relationship's hit a lull an' ya either gotta perk it up o' move on already." Kitty contemplated this.

Rogue pulled off her boots and laid back down, this time throwing her head onto the pillow. Her head hit something between herself and the pillow. She reached up and pulled it out of her hair. It was a rose.

"One thing's for sure, Kitty," Rogue said tossing the flower at her. "Ya gotta stop throwin' your stuff on my side o' the room."

Kitty picked up the flower with a confused look on her face. "But this isn't my rose; Lance only gets me daisies. Wait, there's a card attached to it. Like, a real card."

"As opposed ta what, an imaginary one?"

"No, I mean it's a playing card. It says something on the back. 'Got your message, chere. Can't wait until tomorrow. Adio.' What does that mean?"

Rogue shot up from her bed like a bullet. She snatched the flower from Kitty and read it for herself. _How in the world did the Cajun get in here_? Rogue glanced over to her bed and right next to her pillow lay Kurt's copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_.

"Earth to Rogue." Kitty summoned her back. "Still waiting to be filled in on the secret admirer."

Rogue ignored her and opened the glass doors to their balcony. The wind was picking up and the air was humid. _Probably gonna be a storm tonight or tomorrow_. She leaned out over the edge of the railing, still holding onto the letter and the card.

"I see you got my gift," came a quiet voice from the shadows.

"You're crazy, ya know that," Rogue whispered so that Kitty couldn't hear. "If Logan finds ya here, ya'll be chopped up an' served ta the newbies as sloppy joes."

"You couldn't do that with a Cajun," Remy's replied. "It'd have to be some spicy creole dish."

Rogue smile was hidden by the darkness of the on coming storm. "Ah'm surprised ya read the book that fast," she said changing the subject.

"I have a confession to make." Remy finally showed himself and grabbed her hands in his, "I cheated. John had read it before, actually he formed his own religion around it, real strange, but he knew what you were talkin' 'bout an' helped me find it."

"Ah don' know if ah can forgive ya for that, swamp rat," Rogue said playfully. She noticed that Remy was not only still holding her hands but massaging hers. That made her a uncomfortable. "Ya better go 'fore Logan finds ya," she said pulling away from him and heading into her room.

She shut and locked the doors. Remy was making faces at her through the glass, so she gave him the bird and shut the curtains. While holding the curtain shut, she thought, _'til tomorrow, swamp rat_.

* * *

(1) See Chapter 3 – Cheeseburgers and Sugar Daddies.

Okay guys, I hope that chapter met your expectations and you can be satisfied for another week or so :)


	10. Cognizant Messages

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

St. John is not, by any means, a typical Australian or even a representative of Australians, so please do not journey to Australia expecting to find a whole bunch of trouble-making people to play with matches with. Especially in the forests there 'cause if you burnt those down I would have to hunt you down and beat you with a stick (just kidding but I would be enraged beyond words).

* * *

_thoughts_

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Ten - Cognizant Messages**

"Bobby! You little perv!" Amara yelled after Bobby accidentally elbowed Amara in the chest. "You did that on purpose!" Amara punched Bobby in the gut.

"I did not!" a slightly winded Bobby exclaimed in his defense. "We're shoved in here like sardines, and I was trying to fix my seat belt!"

Squeezed like sardines was right. In the back seat of the Jeep was Bobby, Amara, Sam, and Roberto, and in the spacious passenger seat was Jamie. The driver insisted that, although he was the smallest, Jamie got shotgun so that one nudge didn't result in the X-Jeep turning into a clown car. That and he was the only Newbie the driver could tolerate.

"Hey, knock it off ya guys!" Sam hollered at Bobby and Amara, who had progressed from name calling to did-too, did-not and hair pulling among other things. They were squashing Roberto and Sam against the back door to the Jeep.

The driver tightened her grip on the steering wheel and cursed her naiveness. The Professor's voice mocked her thoughts, _Sure, Rogue, you can drive the Jeep to work tomorrow, but first I will drive you insane by forcing you to drop the Newbies off for a field trip! AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!_ Rogue mentally screamed and cursed as she tightened her grip on the wheel. She took the next left turn a little faster than she should have, hoping that her reckless driving would quiet the Newbies in the back seat. No such luck, they yelled at each other even louder now.

"Rogue, are you okay?" two Jamies asked from the passenger seat. Apparently when Rogue took that last turn, Amara had been prepping one huge slap for Bobby. The adjustment of G-force threw her arm into Sam. With his long legs, Sam couldn't help but kick the passenger seat. And now there are two Jamies in the front seat.

"Bobby, stop icing my hair!" Amara turned into her magma form.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Sam yelled while trying desperately to put some buffer space between him and Amara's hot skin.

"HEY! That was my eye!" Roberto screamed. Now both Sam and Roberto were kicking Jamie's seat.

Rogue hunched further over the steering wheel, trying to concentrate on getting to the middle school as fast as possible. Her foot was becoming heavier and heavier on the accelerator.

When a half dozen Jamies were wriggling under the passenger seat belt, Rogue had had enough. She growled loudly and violently cut across several lanes of traffic and jumped a curb.

The Jamies covered their eyes with their hands as they saw the Jeep heading uncontrollably toward a street sign. A few seconds after he thought they would have hit the sign he opened his eyes to find Rogue spinning the Jeep to an abrupt stop in a virtually empty parking lot. _Musta missed the sign_, Jamie thought. Jamie put himself back together and turned around to look out the back window. There were two skid marks stretched across the road and into the parking lot. These marks happened to straddle one "No Parking, Fire Zone" sign. _Weird_. Jamie turned around and faced forward again.

The dangerous, _Gone in Sixty Seconds_ driving caused silence in the back seat. Rogue turned around to face them.

"Do ya'll wanna make it ta this field trip alive?" Rogue asked through clenched teeth.

There were frightened gulps and nods coming from the Newbies in the back.

"Good," was all Rogue said. She turned back around in her seat and shifted the Jeep into gear. The rest of the trip was met with silence aside from the radio playing various hard rock tunes.

At the school the four in the back emerged from the Jeep still wearing their terrified faces. Rogue glanced at the singular Jamie grabbing his book bag. He also wore a frightened face. Rogue reached across the car and ruffled Jamie's hair.

"Have a good time, kid," she said loud enough for Jamie alone to hear. Jamie beamed at her, then rushed to join his classmates.

Rogue took off and headed for Vinyl Vintage. She parked out back and let herself in the back door. She opened the register and started preparing for the day. She noticed that it was a little darker in the store than usual, but didn't think anything of it.

_Okay, it's 10 o'clock. Ah think ah remembered ta do everythin'. Sly will be here in an hour, so he'll let meh know. Then Ashley's comin' in a little later. Never worked with her before. From what ah hear it's gonna be an adventure, an' not in a good way_. Rogue walked to the front door to unlock it. She noticed that there was something painted on the windows. _That wasn't there last night_, she recalled. Someone had spray painted something on the windows. Rogue couldn't read it from the inside, so she stumbled with the keys to unlock the door and rushed outside. Rogue backed up to the edge of the curb so she could read the message in its entirety:

Traitor! Die mutie loving freaks!

Rogue's mouth gaped open, the keys slipped from her hand. Her surprise converted to shame, which quickly turned to an almost uncontrollable anger. In one fluid motion she swept the keys off the ground and stomped inside.

She picked up the phone and called Jamal. She struggled to keep a calm voice when she relayed what had happened to him. He told her to call the police and file a report and he would be there soon to talk to the police too. Rogue hung up the phone and dialed the Bayville Police Department.

"Hello, yes, Ah work at Vinyl Vintage on Main Street an' the store was vandalized last night....Someone spray painted 'Traitor, die mutie lovin' freaks' on the front windows....What do ya mean there's nothin' ya can do....Ain't ya suppose ta come down here, take some pictures, an' file a report...Am Ah a mutant? What the hell does that have ta do with anythin'?....Look, Ah just work here, the owner is expectin' ta be meetin' some cops when he gets here so he can file a report an' stuff...Well, Ah suggest ya drop your donuts an' come down here an' do your job!....Yeah, well, if ya wanna arrest me for contempt ya'll have ta come down here an' get meh. An' while your at it ya might as well take down a vandalism report....Great, Ah'll welcome them when they get here." Rogue slammed down the receiver. _Damn stereotyping cops! Ah really hope they don't arrest meh when they get here. Ah've gotten lectured enough at the mansion lately. Don't think it'll look good ta go back with a police record_.

* * *

Luckily for Rogue, she did not get hauled off to the big house. Jamal was just finishing up talking with the police when Sly showed up for work.

"Whoa, what the hell happened here? What's up with the new decor?" Sly asked as he set his book bag down behind the counter.

Rogue had just entered from the back room with a bucket, a sponge, two rubber gloves and a bottle of graffiti remover in time to hear Sly's questions. "Idiots spray painted the front o' the store or are ya blind?" Rogue's voice was cold and filled with anger.

"Geez, I'm sorry I asked such obvious questions," Sly sheepishly replied.

Jamal approached them before he left. "Okay, now that that's all taken care of, you two got this under control?"

"Yeah," they replied.

"Are you sure you still want to work today, Rogue? You can go home, and I'll call Ashley to come in early," Jamal offered. Sly groaned at the reminder of having to work with Ashley.

"Ah'm fine." Rogue practically growled. Jamal raised his brown eyebrows in disbelief. Rogue continued, eyes narrowed, "Ah wouldn't give 'em the satisfaction o' scarin' meh outta work."

Jamal nodded, not agreeing with her decision but accepting it. "Okay, I'm heading out, call my cell if anything else happens." The owner of Vinyl Vintage turned to leave.

"Even if I happen to strangle Ashley?" Sly inquired.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Sly," Jamal started only half-jokingly, "no killing my employees while on the clock. I'm sorry you two don't get along, but in the real world you have to deal with people you are not particularly fond of. She's a good honest worker, which is why she is here. Deal with it." Jamal waved and left.

Sly sighed. Rogue picked up her bucket of water off the floor and continued for the door.

Her co-worker noticed what she was doing and tried to stop her. "No, you don't have to do that, let me." Sly started to take the bucket away.

Rogue jerked it out of his reach, causing a little bit of water to spill on the floor. "No! Ah want ta do this...Ah wanna see each an' every last letter disappear." Rogue narrowed her eyes.

Sly understood and let her pass. He popped in OPM to try and brighten his mood. His eyes looked around the empty store. _This is going to be one long ass day_.

* * *

At the conclusion of OPM's Menace to Sobriety, Rogue dropped her sponge and sprinted toward the stereo system.

"Thank gawd!" Rogue exclaimed as she shoved Sly out of the way after he removed his CD. "Ah thought ah was gonna haveta go out an' buy a bottle of Captain Morgan in order ta get through that CD," Rogue claimed, alluding to OPM's track entitled "El Capitan," "an' ah don' even like rum."

"See, excellent subliminal messaging going on there," Sly defended his music selection.

Rogue looked blankly at him. There were a few moments of silence until Rogue broke it. "Do ya know what subliminal means?"

Sly shrugged. "But subliminal message sounds so much cooler than something like cognizant message...actually, cognizant message does sound pretty cool, and besides, if you listen closely to the song, they are discouraging or at least warning the listeners to the dangers of El Capitan..." Rogue had lost interest in the punk's ramblings and expressed that to him by holding her hand out in a mouth like fashion and making her hand open and close. She flipped through her book of CD's until she found something to match her angst of the day.

"What did you put in?" Sly asked.

"Family Values Tour '98," Rogue answered with a satisfied look on her face as her favorites Korn, Orgy, and Limp Bizkit among others would soon fill the speakers.

Sly groaned. "Where did you put that bottle of Captain Morgan's?" He pretended to look around.

"Ah had ta live through skateboards an' bongs in heaven (1), so ya can live through this," was Rogue's closing statement as she left to return to her graffiti scrubbing. On her way out, a bleach blonde girl dressed in pressed mall bought mass-produced punk clothes walked in. She wore wrinkle free baggy plaid capri pants with an assortment of ornamental chains and zippers, a green tube top, and long green and black armwarmers and matching head wrap.

"Can Ah help ya?" the glove clad Rogue asked, slightly peeved at the mannerisms or lack thereof of the blonde.

"No, I should be asking you that, chicky," the blonde replied in an equally peeved tone.

_This is definitely, going to be a long ass day_, Sly repeated his thought. "Hello, Ashley," he greeted coldly. "You remember Rogue from the employee meeting last week? She's working today."

"Sorry," Ashley half-sincerely apologized to Rogue. "I didn't recognize you with the, uh, gloves."

"Ah always wear gloves," Rogue stated.

"Really?" Ashley made a face. "That's so outta style; armwarmers are in."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Ya point?"

"You really shouldn't wear gloves anymore if you want to keep up with the times." Ashley tried to explain Rogue's faux poi in the fashion world.

"An' if ah don't?"

"Then continue," Ashley waved her away as to dismiss a peasant from a Queen's presence. "Sly, my precious little punk boy toy, how are you doing today?"

"_Ex_-boy toy, and I was doing quite well until you decided to grace the world with your presence." Sly gave her a very fake smile while wishing a large crevice would open up in the middle of the store and suck Ashley in like Rumplestiltskin.

"Ex for now." Ashley went into the backroom and punched in. "You'll never find another girl like me in a million years."

"Praise the Lord!" Sly exclaimed and raised his hands to the ceiling. Rogue glanced at Sly and felt a little pity for the fellow who would be stuck inside with her practically all day. Then she took off outside and thanked her lucky stars that she volunteered to wash graffiti.

Rogue mesmerized herself while scrubbing and listening to Family Values. She was broken from her trance when her CD stopped mid-song and Gwen Stefani started singing. If she wasn't angry before, Rogue was now furious.

She stomped into the store with a murderous glint in her eye. Sly stepped back and held up his hands. "I tried to stop her."

Rogue's glaze went over to Ashley who was marking CD's. Ashley looked up at Rogue slightly annoyed. "What?!"

"Why did ya stop mah music?" Rogue managed to spit out through clenched teeth.

"Your music was not conducive to a commercial environment," Ashley said, matter-of-factly.

"It is essential for mah environment," Rogue retorted.

"You should always put the customer first." Ashley brushed past Rogue and continued to busy herself around the store.

"What customers?!" Rogue gestured to the empty store.

"Exactly, my point," Ashley responded.

"Listen here -"

Ashley pulled rank. "No, I have worked here for almost three years, and I know what I'm doing."

Rogue grew frustrated. "Question?" she asked Ashley, who nodded in response. "If ah drop a house on ya, would your special fad armwarmers crinkle up like the Wicked Witch of the East?"

"Why you insolent, little high schooler!" Ashley couldn't handle a mock to her corporate fashion sense, even if her armbands did look like the Wicked Witch's socks from the Wizard of Oz. "I think you should be watching me and learning how to do this job properly -"

"Wrong, ya should think 'bout how long ya wanna stay conscious," Rogue growled.

Ashley looked the gothic girl up and down. "Like you could take me on."

Rogue adjusted her tactic, although she might get lectured for it later. "Do ya have any idea why Ah always wear gloves, Ashley, o' were ya not paying any attention ta that part o' the employee meetin' either?" Rogue stepped closer the girl. _Should ah really do it? She might never come near meh after this...HELL YEAH_!

The bleach blonde looked at her annoyed, but did not answer.

Rogue got within a few inches of her face. "Ah'm a mutant an' with a single touch, ah can suck the life outta people an' knock 'em out. Wanna try it?" Rogue started to take off her glove.

An immense fear spread across Ashley's face. "You're one of those freaks!!" She jumped up and backed away from Rogue quickly. "So you're the reason Jamal has become an anti-mutant target!"

"Yah, an' ah'm cleanin' up after 'em too."

Ashley snorted. "You think that little spray paint prank is the only thing he's faced the last couple of weeks. Try threatening phone calls and breaking and entering into his house!"

"What?!" Rogue had no idea what she was talking about. She glanced over to Sly who wasn't looking her in the eye, an unspoken confirmation of Ashley's gossip.

"Yeah, glove girl, Jamal's been receiving hell for hiring you; you're gonna run him out of business or kill him, which ever comes first."

"ASHLEY!!" Sly yelled. "That's not true and you know it. If Jamal was really worried, he would have let her know, and let her go. He puts our safety above everything. These people are just trying to scare him, they have no real guts to follow through, and he knows it. Don't worry about it, Rogue."

"Don't worry 'bout it?!" Rogue exclaimed in frustration. "That'll work," she added sarcastically.

"He's not in any real trouble," Sly repeated. Ashley snorted and rolled her eyes and Sly glared at her in response. "Just go back outside and finish up. I'll put your CD back on, because it is YOUR turn. And, Ashley, you will resume your work on the floor without any further venomous comments," Sly took charge.

"Who died and made you manager?" Ashley stubbornly retorted.

Now it was Sly's turn for the eye roll, "I've been a manager for over a month. Were you actually mentally present at any of the last couple employee meetings?"

"I still have seniority over you," Ashley continued the power struggle.

"'cept I'm on the schedule as manager today and you are not."

Ashley didn't respond and just started back to work, making as much noise as she could to remind everyone that she was pissed. At the sound of her CD starting over, Rogue went back outside to continue cleaning. _Ah'm gonna have ta talk ta Jamal later. Ah can't let him be in danger 'cause o' meh. Ah gotta quit. Guess it's back ta livin' off the Professor's 1-900 number _(2).

* * *

Mid-afternoon, Rogue plopped her bucket of dirty water and sponge on the counter in front of Sly. "All done," Rogue said very satisfactorily.

"Good, now you can start checking some inventory." Sly handed her a clipboard without even looking up from what he was doing. Rogue groaned and took the clipboard from his hand.

She turned and looked around the empty store. "Has anyone come in today?"

"Nope. Not yet. And the worst part of it is that I've been stuck in here with the wannabe punk queen," Sly complained.

"Ya two are definitely not a match made in heaven," Rogue commented.

"Yeah, I musta been high when I dated her," Sly contemplated. "I have no idea how I could tolerate her for four months unless I was. I mean, she pretends to be into the punk scene, but then she listens to sell outs who aren't even punk anymore," he referred to the No Doubt Rock Steady CD Ashley had playing. "I mean how can you go from a punk/ska band with a hint of reggae in Tragic Kingdom, to a completely urban hip hop slash reggae sound where it is difficult to distinguish any guitars at all, much less a trumpet or sax. And Gwen?! She's gone a little overboard to create her own style, and I'm about ready to loop her into the Christina Agularia category."

"Uh, huh," Rogue replied, having little knowledge of No Doubt.

An idea sparked in Sly's mind. "Rogue, did you happen to see any good, solid brick walls while you were outside?"

The goth gave Sly a strange look. "Uh…Ah wasn't really lookin'."

"Damn, 'cause I really going to need to bang my head up against a brick wall if I have to listen to much more of this."

Rogue nodded in agreement. "What would I have to do to get the next music choice?"

Shooting her a suspicious look Sly said, "I don't know, depends what you want to play."

Rogue grabbed her CD binder and flipped to a page and pointed.

"No," Sly answered. "There is no way in hell I'm trading my turn for them. I am going to have a nice relaxing hour listening to Save Ferris and dreaming of Monique Powell. No way I'm hunting my daydreams with the Queen of the Damned soundtrack."

Rogue shrugged. "You're gonna haveta listen ta it eventually."

"But I can delay the inevitable as long as possible." As Rogue turned her back to Sly to start on inventory, Sly remembered something. "Oh, and I found something while cleaning up the office that you might enjoy."

Rogue remained skeptic. "An' what's that?"

Sly shook his head. "You gotta promise no Queen of the Damned today."

"Whateveh," Rogue responded, having already picked out a more angsty CD to play next.

Sly pulled out two cards in lariats from behind his back. "Two backstage tickets to the sold out Kittie and Dazzlers show next Tuesday."

Rogue took the cards from him and looked at them. "Ah already have two tickets."

"And now you have backstage passes."

"But ah don't want backstage passes. Ah'm not even sure ah'm gonna go anymore." She hands the passes back to Sly.

"What do you mean? It's not every day big name like Kittie comes strolling through a place like Bayville."

"Ah know, it's just that my friend who ah was gonna go with hasn't been in school lately."

"She's been sick?" Sly asked, slightly concerned.

"No, she never came back from her parent's in England." _Never called either._ Rogue thought of Risty, her only true friend outside the X-Men. Heck, she was the closest thing Rogue had to a best friend. _She probably saw my fat face plastered all over TV and decided to stay in England and never be associated with such a freak ever again._

"Well, screw her and go anyway." Sly tried to hand her passes again, but Rogue refused to take them. He gave up with the conventional methods of distribution and leaned over the counter and shoved the passes down the pocket of her jeans. Before Rogue could object, Sly ordered. "Now be a good little worker and go do inventory."

"If Ah'm a worker then what does that make you? The queen bee?" Rogue tried to insult him.

"Queen bee…yes, I do like the sound of that," Sly mused, then whispered, "but don't let Ashley know. That delusion is the only thing that keeps her in line."

Rogue rolled her eyes not knowing how to respond to that and stared working.

* * *

At twenty-five after six a vehicle pulled to the side of the street near a park bench.

"I don't see any party here," our favorite Aussie said as he opened his passenger side door. Before he could close his door and suggest another destination for their Saturday night escapade, St. John was shoved out of the vehicle and the door shut and locked behind him. John pulled himself off the ground in time to see Piotr and Remy burning rubber.

Remy unrolled one of the windows and shouted back to John, "Meet you back here later!"

Remy bounced back into his seat and rolled up his window. "Well, dat takes care o' dat."

Piotr felt guilty. "It was not nice to trick him."

"We had no other options, Petey," Remy explained. "He can't stay at de base alone wit' Sabertooth an' de gas stove an' he sure as hell isn' comin' on my date wit' Rogue. Unless you wanted him to tag along wit' you to the X-Geek Mansion to show de Kitty your pretty paintin', we were outta options."

"I guess you are right," Petey sighed. "We should make it up to him sometime…and not with duct tape (3)." Piotr pulled up to Vinyl Vintage.

* * *

By six thirty, Vinyl Vintage had only had five customers all day. It was an exceptionally slow Saturday. Rogue couldn't help but feel that it was her fault. She was the reason people vandalized the store and stopped shopping there. _Ah am gonna put Jamal outta business. Why can't ah just have a normal after school job like everyone else?! Why does my curse have to follow me everywhere?_ She was feeling incredibly dejected, and her choice in music showed it. The Rogue was working at the register now as well as standing guard at the stereo system. Ashley had tried to steal her CD out of the player a few times, only to be met with evil death glares and slaps on the hand by a hardcover copy of _A Farewell to Arms_, which Rogue was attempting to read for class. _Finally found something this book is good for_, she thought. Sly was also displeased, but respected that it was Rogue's turn and that it would be over in a half hour.

The bells above the front entrance jingled for the eleventh time that day as a tall man in a trench coat and sunglasses walked in.

"Bonjour, chere," Remy greeted Rogue. "Hope you don' mind me comin' a little early. Had to make sure you weren' gonna ditch me."

Rogue sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Remy, can we postpone tonight?" _Ah don't know if ah can deal with his flirtin', hormonal self tonight. Ah feel so drained and depressed about today an' havin' ta quit._

"Non, you agreed an' I won't let you weasel out of it," Remy persisted. Rogue looked distressed. "You had a bad day?"

Rogue snorted. "What was your first clue?"

"De music. Who in de world is screamin' at me in, what is it? German?"

"Yah, it's Rammstein's Sehnsucht."

"Do you even know what dey're screamin' 'bout?"

"In music, ya don't need ta understand the words to get the message." Rogue avoided the question.

So Remy answered it for her. "So dat's a no den?"

Rogue nodded, giving in. _Ah don't have the energy ta fight with him today_. "Tried ta get Kurt ta translate it for meh once. He was listenin' ta Spiel Mit Mir an' after the second verse he said he felt dirty and bamfed outta there."

"Bamfed?" Sly interrupted. "New slang?"

"No, that's the sound he makes when he teleports. Bamf," Rogue answered.

"Teleports?" Sly questioned.

"Yah, teleports," Rogue confirmed, but decided to expand upon for Sly's sanity or remnants thereof. "He's a mutant, too. That's his power."

"Cool," Sly said.

"No, not cool. Especially when he does it in your room an' ya have ta leave the windows open for the rest o' the day ta air out the smell."

"Awww, poor baby," Ashley mocked. "I'm taking my break now, Sly."

"Thank God! Now I can have fifteen minutes of peace," Sly responded and then continued his work on the other side of the store.

Rogue glared at her as she left the room, making sure she didn't go near the stereo.

"So what made dis day so awful?" Remy asked the Goth after she turned her attention back to him.

"Well, first, ah had ta drive the Newbies at the mansion ta a field trip," Rogue started.

"Dat don' sound so bad," Remy naively said.

Rogue glared at him. "Have ya met Bobby and Amara?"

"Non."

"Then ya have no idea how bad it was. Ah had ta stop the car, almost hit a sign too. Second, ah come in here ta open an' someone had spray painted 'Tratior! Mutie Loving Freaks!' on the front of the store, which ah spent half the day washing off. Then the cops were bein' jackasses an' almost didn' come out 'cause ah'm a mutant. Then ah had the pleasure o' meeting Ashley…" Rogue continued to describe the rest of her day.

"Wow, now I see why you're so angry," Remy replied. "But wit' all dat happenin' already, how could it get any worse? Come out wit' me."

"Now ya've jinked it." Rogue smiled and started packing up her books to leave.

"Rogue, why don't you cut out early? I doubt we're going to have a surge of customers come in in the next half hour," Sly called out from across the store.

"See, your day is startin' to look up." Remy still tried to convince her to come along.

"Ah just wanna drive home an' go ta bed." Rogue pleaded to be released from her agreement.

Remy's face grew sad and he started to pout. D_e femmes cannot resist de sad eye, puppy-dog face._

Rogue crossed her arms. _Ah will not fall for his childish antics. But he looks like ah just ran over his dog_. "Fine. Ya can walk meh ta the Jeep, but that's it."

A huge grin spread across Remy's face. "So I got the walk to de car to convince you to go out wit' me tonight?"

"Ah'm not goin' out with ya tonight, swamp rat!" Rogue started to get irritated, but in a refreshing way, not in a "I'm going to rip your head off" sort of way. She put her Rammstein CD away and slung her bag over her shoulder. As she went to the back room to punch out she noticed that Sly had already put in a new CD.

"Now, Ah know the real reason ya wanted meh to leave early, Queen Bee," Rogue teased Sly. "Good-bye, your majesty." Sly waved.

Remy gave her a strange look, but followed her out of the store without commenting. _Some things are not meant to be explained_.

"So, mon chere," Remy put on the charm, "What would ya like to do wit' Remy tonight? Keep in mind dat dis is our first date, so nothin' too kinky. Save dat for de second date."

"Second date?" Rogue raised an eyebrow at him. "We aren't goin' on a first date."

"Come on, what would ya like to do wit' me?"

"Remy, tonight I feel like throwin' ya from a movin' vehicle," Rogue mused. "How does that sound?"

"Painful, an' not in a good way." Remy had another suggestion. "How about de sport o' pool? I know a place not far from here. An' pool isn't too gruelin'."

"Pool?" Rogue questioned as they rounded the block. "Pool sounds kinda borin."

"We can make it interestin'. Make some wagers," Remy recommended.

"What do ya take meh for, swamp rat?" Rogue questioned. "For one, ah'm not gonna gamble with a guy who's bad guy code name is Gambit, and two, ya're -" Rogue stopped mid-sentence.

She had just reached the parking lot behind Vinyl Vintage. The X-Jeep was covered in eggs and shaving cream spelling out horrible words I'm not going to write on all sides of the vehicle. As she walked closer she saw that the tires were slashed too. Rogue sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"Can't get any worse, eh, Cajun?" Rogue asked.

Remy didn't know what to say. He just walked up behind her and put his arms around her shoulders. "Guess I did jinks it. Sorry 'bout dat."

Rogue smiled a little, but it disappeared when she looked back at the car. _Ah don't wanna call the mansion and explain this on top of everythin' else that has happened today. Remy's right, can this day get any worse?_

"Where was this pool place ya were tellin' meh 'bout?"

* * *

(1) OPM's "Heaven is a Halfpipe"

(2) See Chapter 3 - Cheeseburgers and Sugar Daddies

(3) See Chapter 6 - I'd always figured you'd like it kinky

**A/N**: *evil laughter* And you guys thought you were going to read about Remy and Rogue's date this chapter *more evil laughter* I promise plenty of Romy, John/Wanda, and even a little Kiotr next time. I know the suspense is killing everyone, but I got something really good planned. At least in my head it's really cool. On paper...er .html it might be something else. Thanks for tuning in :)


	11. Love is in the Air

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

St. John is not, by any means, a typical Australian or even a representative of Australians, so please do not journey to Australia expecting to find a whole bunch of trouble-making people to play with matches with. Especially in the forests there 'cause if you burnt those down I would have to hunt you down and beat you with a stick (just kidding but I would be enraged beyond words).

* * *

_thoughts_

**telepathy**

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Eleven - Love is in the Air **

Insert John lip sinking to Barry White here

Bayville, New York: 6:30 p.m.

A lone Australian walked through town kicking stones and muttering to himself: "Bloody pikers! Just who do they think they are to abandon me for the second time this week? They probably wanted to run around after their pretty little X-Geeks they can't even have. Pathetic. But don't fret, St. John," he addressed himself, "you shall have your revenge." John laughed maniacally. "Revenge is sweet."

John sorted through various slightly evil plots in his mind. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the red convertible with the white stripe down the center until it was too late.

"Ouch! Bloody hell! Watch where you're going!" John shouted at the unoccupied parked car.

He looked around to where his feet had taken him: The newly reconstructed Bayville Mall.

A mischievous grin formed on the Aussie's face. "This is a perfect night for some consumer mayhem. But first." John looked back at the red convertible, which the owner had naively left the top down. "You need to be taught a lesson."

* * *

In a nearby pool hall, a strange teenage girl with auburn hair and white bangs entered with a young man dressed in jeans, a red baseball tee, a trench coat and sunglasses. The place was small, dark, and slightly smoky. There were cues lining the walls, twelve pool tables, only three of which were occupied, a couple old arcade games, two foosball tables, dartboards, a jukebox, and a small bar.

The bartender greeted Remy warmly. "Remy LeBeau, welcome back." He looked past Remy to see Rogue behind him. "Not here with the boys this evening, I see. Hello, I'm Louis, and this is my place." Louis extended his hand toward Rogue.

Rogue nonchalantly took it. "I'm Rogue."

"Rogue, that's a strange name. Run in your family?" Louis questioned. Rogue just shrugged.

"Well, she's certainly talkative," Louis sarcastically commented to Remy.

"You just gotta know what buttons to push. Right, chere?" Remy put his arm around her causing a face of discomfort to emerge across her face.

"Yah, Remy, an' ya're 'bout this close," Rogue held up her hand and held her index finger and thumb a centimeter apart, "ta pushin' mah self-destruct button." And with that she pulled herself out of Remy's embrace.

Louis laughed. "She's a feisty one, Remy. You sure you can handle her?"

Remy opened his mouth to comment, but Rogue beat him to it. "Handle meh? Handle meh where?"

"She's got an attitude, when you dig down there, don't she?" Louis again commented.

The Cajun agreed with a hint of pride in his voice. "She's got sass." He wished he could put his arm around her again, but from the death glares she was giving him, he decided against it. _Maybe I'll try again later_.

Rogue put her hands on her hips. "Will ya'll stop talkin' like ah ain't here!"

"Quite demanding too," Louis said as Remy turned back to Rogue.

"Sorry, chere," he apologized. "Do you want anthin' to drink?"

"A coke."

"Louis, I'll have a bud an' de poster child for designated drivers here would like a coke (1)," Remy teased. Rogue smacked him in the arm.

"Ow! Not so hard, chere, not 'til later anyway." Remy wiggled his eyebrows at her. Rogue hit him again in the same spot. "Ow!" Remy rubbed his bruising arm."Why'd you doin' dat?"

"Sorry, it's a reflex," Rogue told him.

"A reflex triggered by what?" he asked.

"Ya sayin' somethin' stupid," Rogue answered. "Ah have a feelin' mah arm will get a work out tonight."

Remy grabbed his drink off the counter and started to take a sip while Louis went to get a coke. "'Sides, Louis here might get in trouble if he serves meh. Ah am only seventeen," Rogue told him.

Remy violently spit his beer back into the mug. "Only seventeen. Really?"

"Yah, why? How old are ya?"

Remy glazed at her taking her in with his eyes. "Let's just say, if it weren't fo' your powers, I'd be breakin' several laws right now."

The seventeen year old snorted. "Like ah'd let ya near meh."

Wearing his player smile, Remy leaned up against the bar. "How long ya gonna resist the Cajun charm?"

"Charm? Is that what ya call those cheesy pick up lines ya memorize off the Internet?" Rogue shot back.

"You offend me, chere. Those lines be original, straight off de cuff," Remy insisted.

Rogue turned her head to the side and blew a stray white bang out of her face. "Sure, swamp rat. Anyway ya avoided mah question, swamp rat: How old are ya?"

"Twenty-two. Does that bother you?" Remy unknowingly held his breath. Rogue noticed.

"Not really. 'cept that ya certainly don't act your age," Rogue told the older man. Louis came back with Rogue's drink and she took it.

With his free hand, Remy grabbed Rogue's hand and led her to a pool table in the farthest back corner of Louis' Place.

"Why do we haveta play all the way back here?" Rogue asked.

"It's de best table in de joint." Remy put his drink down on a nearby table and got some quarters out of the change machine.

"Really? That so?" Rogue said skeptically with a raised eyebrow.

"Oui, de most secluded table is always de best table," Remy informed his date.

"An' why do we need a secluded table?" Rogue asked as they walked over to the wall and chose some cues.

A huge grin spread across Remy's face and he just winked at her. Rogue smacked him in the arm again.

"Ow! I didn' even say anythin' dat time!" Remy rubbed his arm again.

Rogue stared him down. "But ya were thinkin' stupid, dirty things."

"How do you know dat? You're friend Jeannie hidin' 'round here, readin' my mind?"

"No! An' Jean is not mah friend."

"But I'm your friend, right?"

"Haven't decided yet," she answered truthfully. She didn't know if he was trustworthy or what he was really after.

"What's your decision ridin' on?"

"Don't know," Rogue shrugged. Remy did not seem satisfied with her answer: He tried to start up with the puppy face again. Rogue rolled her eyes at his childish antics and decided to match them. "How 'bout how may times ah have ta hit ya. If it's under ten, ya can be mah friend."

Remy smiled. "Okay, ten starting now, right? D'ose first three don' count, right?"

Rogue didn't answer his question. "Just break swamp rat."

They played stripes and solids for several minutes. At first Remy had played down, thinking that Rogue was not very experienced in the game. This myth was cleared up on Rogue first shot when she hit three balls in before watching the ten-ball bounce around the corner pocket. Still, Remy felt no ambition to beat her so he decided to make a suggestion. "Let's say we make dis game a little more interestin'. Let's make a deal."

"Ah ain't bettin' money with ya, swamp rat," she said as she took aim.

"Non, how 'bout a different kind of bet." Remy licked his lips and put his million-dollar smile on. "Let's say de loser has to give de winner a kiss."

Rogue put down her cue and gave a Remy an annoyed look. "Sounds great. An' then ah get the pleasure o' carryin' your comatose ass home."

The Cajun shrugged. "Maybe it be worth it, non?' Rogue looked at him, but didn't verbally respond. She laid her cue down on the table and headed toward the door. Remy raced ahead and cut her off.

"Non, don' go chere, please," he begged her. "Remy wants you to stay. What does Remy have to do to get you to stay?"

The southern belle blew up. "Where do ya come off! Ya know what happens when ah touch somebody!"

Remy hung his head down and grabbed her hands loosely in his. "Oui, I know…I just…" he rolled his head so he was looking at the ceiling, trying to find the words. "You intoxicate me…"

"No, that was the beer," Rogue interrupted and tried to push past him. Remy blocked her escape.

"No! You just intrigue me. I don' understand a thin' 'bout you, but I feel that I will burst if I don'. Every time I make you smile, I melt inside." It was a line he had said before, but even Rogue could sense that there was some genuine feeling behind it.

_Why is he doin' this? Why won't he just let meh be? Ah was content ta bein' alone. But now, it feels empty ta leave. He so stubborn an' arrogant. Ah should despise him, but then he gives meh a peak into this thoughtful side between his god-awful pick-up lines. He challenges mah way of life, the way ah decided ta live after ah manifest mah powers. Ah shoot all these sparks and daggers at him an' he just brushes them off. Why? Damn curiosity. Curiosity did kill the cat, but hopefully ah'm smarter than that._ She looked at his sunglasses, trying to see through them into his enchanting eyes. _What is the harm in getting' ta know him a little better?_

After several moments of silence Remy quietly asked her again, "Please stay Rogue." She let go of one of his hands and squeezed the other one as she led him back to their game.

"Okay, new deal," Rogue announced. "The winner gets to ask the loser a question, which he has to -"

"You mean he or she, chere."

"- which he has ta answer -"

"No she, eh. Is dere somethin' you're not tellin' me, Roguey?"

Rogue stifled a laugh and continued, "- has ta answer the question…" Remy smiled mischeviously. "…truthfully."

"Damn," Remy commented under his breath, but loud enough so Rogue could still hear.

"…an' ta the winner's satisfaction," she finished. _Now maybe ah can figure out what he's up to_.

"Can't be 'bout "work." Ya don' want me to get in trouble wit' de Magnet Man now, do you?" Remy stipulated.

"Sure, not about 'work,'" Rogue agreed.

Remy looked thoughtful for a second. "Can de question be an action or dare 'cause I know of a few t'ings you could do ta give meh satisfaction." Rogue hit him hard in the arm.

"One?" he questioned.

"No, four, swamp rat."

"Are you sure it's under ten punches an' not over?"

* * *

Peter stopped at the gate to Professor Xavior's School for Gifted Youngsters. _I cannot do this. I should turn back now._ Despite his hesitations, Peter pressed the intercom button. _I hope she is home_.

" seeks admittance to Xavior's Haunted Mansion?" Peter could hear some rustling in the background.

"Knock it off, Bobby," Amara's voice came on.

"OW! That hurt Amara!" Bobby exclaimed.

"Xavior's School. Please state your business," Amara said.

"I, uh, am here to see Kitty. This is Peter," the Russian stuttered into the com box.

"Kitty!" he heard Amara yell, "Some guy named Pete is here to see you!"

"Pete?" Peter heard Kitty say in the background, "Do I know a Pete?" Peter's heart sank. _She does not remember me. I should go home._

"Hello?" Kitty's voice questioned from the intercom. Peter hesitated to answer. "Is anyone there?" Peter could hear Kitty's voice turn away from the intercom. "What are you guys up to? There's no one there!"

With a sudden burst of courage, Peter managed to push the intercom button again, "Uh, hello, Kitty? This is Peter from the other day at the park -"

Kitty rushed over to the intercom from interrogating Amara. "Hello, hello? This is Kitty. I'm here."

"Told you there was someone there," Amara grumbled in the background.

"Uh, I finished the painting of you in the park, and you said you would like to see it, but if now is not a good time…"

"OH! That Peter! Oh, no. Now is, like, great. Come right in." A buzzing sound was heard as the gates opened to let Peter drive up to the gate. _Last change to turn back._ The metal man took a deep breath and exhaled. _Here goes nothing._

When Peter had pulled up to the mansion, Kitty was sitting on the front porch waiting. He stepped out of the car and started shaking slightly. Lucky for him the car was between him and Kitty so she couldn't see how nervous he was. He took a couple deep breaths and pulled his painting out of the back seat. It was a 18" by 24" watercolor that he worked practically nonstop all week on. Remy had to remind him to eat a couple of times. He just didn't want to do anything else. _The sooner I get this done, the sooner I will get to see Kitty again_. That's not to say that he did a slipshod job or anything. Actually it was one of his best works. _Funny things happen when you are inspired_. He glanced at the pretty little valley girl through the tinted windows of the car. _I hope she likes it_.

Peter walked around the front of the car toward Kitty on the porch steps. "Hello," Peter managed to get out as well as a nervous smile.

"Hey!" she cheerfully responded. Kitty pointed to the painting under his arm. "Is that it?"

"Yes," Peter responded and handed her the matted and framed watercolor.

Kitty took it and sat down. "WOW. This is amazing Peter!" Her fingers passed over the glass as she examined the painting. "This is the coolest this I have ever seen!"

Peter beamed. "I am glad you like it. It is yours if you want it."

"NO WAY! I couldn't take this away from you. Someday you're gonna have some gallery opening and be like, 'Damn, I wish I hadn't given away that painting, the Queen really would have liked it.'"

Peter loosened up a little and laughed. "The Queen?"

"Well, you know. Not necessarily the Queen of England, but someone important." Kitty looked back at the painting. "Wow."

"Well, then I would just have to remind myself that art is meant to be shared and I shared that piece a long time ago," Peter said.

"You are really giving this to me!" Kitty exclaimed.

"I do not know. Now that you say it, it is the Queen's taste. Maybe I should call her first," Peter teased.

Kitty laughed. "You're making fun of me." She pouted a little for dramatic effect.

Peter pretended to reconsider his statement. " I guess I will have to give the Queen something else, because this painting is yours."

"Thank you!" Kitty jumped up and hugged the Russian, who was a little surprised. He hugged back. The both let go a few seconds later, but their eyes remained locked in silence. It became a little awkward, but Kitty soon fixed that. She looked way and smoothed down her skirt. Then she thought of something to say and pointed at Peter. "Okay, I'll keep it, but you have do promise me one thing."

"What is that?" Peter asked.

"If the Queen, like, really comes to your gallery opening then you have to call me up and borrow it." Kitty smiled.

Peter smiled back. "Of course. It is a promise."

They stood around for a few minutes. Having run out of things to say, Peter announced his departure. "I should leave now." He turned toward his vehicle.

"Wait," Kitty called after him. He turned around. "Are you doing anything tonight?" Peter shook his head. "I mean, Amara and I were planning on going to a movie later, we were just working on some transportation, would you like to come with us, as friends," she added the last part quickly. "It's not a chick flick or anything," Kitty persuaded.

Peter considered her offer and despite his nervousness, rejoiced on the inside. "Sure, and if you like I can drive."

"Great!" Kitty bounced. "I'll go tell Amara." Kitty then had a realization. "Oh, and I didn't ask you just because you have a car. I mean, I really think it would be cool to hang out with you and all."

Peter nodded, glad that that was the case. Kitty bounded toward the front doors to the mansion with painting in hand. "You can come in if you want. We don't have to leave for the movie for another half-hour or so."

"Okay," Peter slowly followed Kitty into the mansion.

* * *

The Bayville Mall was quite busy. It was the first weekend it had been opened since the impromptu demolition. Practically everybody and their brother was there checking it out.

_This many people will make it sssoooo easy for mayhem_. John interlocked his fingers and stretched his arms out in front of him. _Now let's see…who shall be my first victim?_ John looked around for a while. His eyes fell upon a large-franchised bookstore. _Why don't I just start here and work my way to the other side of the mall. It's not like those blokes are going to come pick me up anytime soon_.

He waltzed into the store, smiling at the cashier, who was flipping through _Cosmopolitan_ looking bored out of her mind. She didn't pay much attention to the firebug, and by the looks of it, probably wouldn't care if he burnt down the store.

John decided not to be that mean, _I mean, there could be a pet store nearby, and I couldn't bear it if any defenseless puppies got hurt_. He wandered to the mystery section, conveniently out of direct sight of the cashier.

St. John started examining the titles of the novels. He pulled out one of the thickest ones. _Perfect, Mary Higgins Clark._ John flipped to the last chapter and pulled out his lighter. This thumb shot over the safety and a small flame appeared. John used his powers to maneuver the flame away from the lighter. Then he closed his weapon and slipped it safely back into his pocket. _Gotta conserve the lighter fluid_. He made the flame dance across page 256 until it was nothing but ash. Then he made his flame into a tiny dog and had it "rip" across the next few pages. This when on until all of the pages in the last chapter of the mystery novel were cinders. The pyromaniac closed the book, blew off a couple of stray ashes and placed it back on the shelf. John smiled impishly and had his fire make two little horns on his head. _Who's next_? He thought.

After his fifth novel, he was getting a little bored, but the thought of playing with fire sustained him. _Maybe I should move onto self-help books_. Before John could make up his mind, there was a loud commotion coming from outside the store.

"Wait up, doll face!" John recognized a familiar voice say. Seconds later there was a blur of red and black coming through the door and hiding behind a bookcase near John. John casually walked down to the end of the aisle.

"Trouble with your frog price, luv?" John asked Wanda, who was crouched on the floor, watching the door to make sure Todd did not follow her in.

Wanda grabbed John by the collar of his shirt and threw him against the bookshelf. "If you give away my position, you _will_ be dead," she threatened.

"No need to worry, I won't." John looked at his predicament, _pinned up against the shelf by a gorgeous girl, not that bad._ He chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?" Wanda asked as she dropped him.

"Oh, nothing." John played it cool.

Wanda dropped it. _He probably just got another good view down my shirt, the perv._

John brought up a different topic. "Why are you hiding from, Cane Toad, anyway? Why not just hex his ass?"

Wanda sighed. "I think he is building up an immunity to my hex bolts. He seems to recover much faster than he used to."

"Either that or you have just fried his brain cells so he can't feel any pain anymore," John hypothesized.

"Todd had brain cells?" Wanda questioned.

"Good point," John said and threw his theory out the window.

Wanda thought of something and looked at John again, this time surprised to find no visible damage or scars.

Now it was John's turn to act paranoid. "What are you looking at?" John examined himself to see if he had toilet paper stuck to his shoe or something.

"You are still alive and surprisingly unharmed," Wanda observed.

John gave her a funny look. "You didn't rough me up that much." He smiled mischievously. "But we could always rectify that."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "No, I figured Sabertooth would have made a new lucky charms marshmallow out of you by now."

"Ohhh, that," John realized what she was talking about and then went into an explanation, unasked. "See, as it turns out, Jason really likes that show -"

"Who's Jason?" Wanda asked.

"Oh, some new guy Magneto picked up before he left. He's some telepath who makes illusions. He was sleeping off a hangover by the time you came by," John answered then continued with his story. "Anyway, Jason really likes that pansy show_ Gilmore Girls_ (A/N: John's views do not represent the author's views) on the WB which happens to come on the same time as my favorite show _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_. Before I would just toast anyone's ass that interrupted my _Buffy_ viewing, but I decided to make a deal with Jason. I would let him watch _Gilmore Girls_ without any interruptions, and he would cloud Toothy's senses when we were both around so he couldn't smell me or see me or hear me. It's worked out great so far."

Wanda stopped paying attention halfway through his story and started looking at book titles. There was a silence between them for a few moments, which John took it upon himself to rectify: "So, did you ever find that etch-a-sketch conference?"

Wanda growled. "No. I couldn't find anything online. Damn etch-a-sketch people must be computer illiterate or something."

"Well, sorry 'bout that," was all John could think to say.

It was then that Wanda looked at him and noticed the book with the burnt pages in one hand and a ball of flame floating around John's head. "What are you doing?" Wanda looked at him bewildered.

His face broke out into a grin. "I was causing some of what I like to call: consumer mayhem," John explained. "I'm being slightly evil by burning the last chapter out of these mystery novels so that the people that buy them don't get to know how the story turned out."

Wanda snorted. "Amateur." She turned and walked to another part of the store. John couldn't believe she called him that. He followed her, though.

John found her in the romance section. Without saying a word, Wanda held up a trashy romance novel with a guy and girl barely dressed riding a horse on the cover in one hand. In her other hand she held up a Babysitter's Club book, which was about the same size and shape of the other novel. The witch hexed both books, causing the binding to lose its adhesiveness and the covers fell off. Then Wanda put the dirty romance novel pages into the Babysitter's Club cover and vice versa.

Only then did she speak. "Melt the glue again, fire boy."

John hesitated. "You do know that you are defiling the minds of children." Wanda smiled evilly in response. John shrugged. "As long as you are aware." He guided the flame over to the bridges of the books and lightly toasted them so that the glue would stick to their new insides.

Wanda and John soon grew tired of playing in the bookstore. "I'm bored," Wanda announced, replacing a Dragonlance book back on the shelf. Along with corrupting the youth, the twosome had also tortured those series readers by mixing up the insides of those books too.

"Yeah, so am I. What do you want to do now?" John asked.

"I have an idea. Are you up for more mayhem in one of the vilest stores in existence?"

John was offended. "You have to ask?" Puckish grins appeared on their faces, and John followed Wanda out of the bookstore.

* * *

"You got your truth hat on, chere?" Gambit asked as he lined up his final shot. "'cause de eight ball is gonna get real cozy in de left corner pocket." Rogue watched, leaning against her cue, as the eight ball did indeed fall into the pocket he indicated and the cue ball came to a peaceful stop on the table.

"Damn," Rogue muttered. She had won the first game and started out asking him a simple question: What is real full name was? Rogue chuckled when he announced Rembrandt Etienne LeBeau. She teased Rembrandt for a while until this game had heated up. _If I hadn't scratched on that last shot._ Rogue could kick herself for not paying that close attention. _Damn swamp rat and his flirting. I gotta learn to ignore his advances better. _She smiled evilly at her next thought: _Or maybe I should play a little at his game._ Rogue looked back at Remy. He was concentrating on her, brushing his pathetic goatee as if doing that would help him come up with a question.

Remy stopped stroking his facial hair and smiled: "Since you know my name, I want to know yours. What is your real name Rogue?"

"Rogue, I had it legally changed."

"No, what was your name before dat?"

"That's two questions, swamp rat," Rogue started to pull the balls out and put them back out on the table. "Ya're gonna have ta win another game for meh ta answer that one."

"No, no, no," Remy shook his finger at her, "If I recall correctly, you said dat the loser has ta answer de question to da winner's satisfaction an' I am not satisfied."

Rogue could have kicked herself for adding that stipulation. _Ah thought ah was keepin' the swamp rat from weaseling out of answering mah questions, an' now ah got trapped._ "Fine, it's Marie," she spat out the name she told anyone who got too curious. She always liked that name, very sweet sounding.

"An' your last name?" Remy pried.

No one had ever asked her for her last name before. "Uh…Addams. Yah, Marie Addams."

Remy looked quizzically at her. "Can I retract my last question an' ask another one?"

"No! Ah already answered the first one!" Rogue exclaimed.

"Oui, but you cheated. You didn' answer truthfully," Remy's statement made Rogue gasp.

"How did ya know…ah mean, yes ah did!" Rogue could not cover up her mistake.

"Non, you didn'. Since you made de rules for dis game, I'm surprised you aren't followin' dem." Remy chalked up his cue for the next game.

"How did ya know ah was lyin'?" Rogue asked.

"Non, I can' answer dat. You didn' win de game yet, chere." Remy smiled. "Now, for my new question: Why don' you wanna tell anyone your real name?"

Rogue sighed realizing that there was no way around this question. "Ah don't like it. I mean, they dumped meh in an orphanage when ah was just a toddler!"

"Dey who? Your parents?"

"Yes, my biological parents, anyways. Ah guess ah just feel that when ah use mah real name, the one they gave meh, in a way they're gettin' credit fo' mah accomplishments in life when all they did was abandon meh. They're not mah parents, aside from conceiving meh, an' ah don't owe them any respect o' acknowledgement."

"I understand. It hurts don' it," Remy sympathized. "My papa, Jean Luc, took me in when I was five, maybe. Don' remember much 'fore dat. Took me in, de child wit' de demon eyes, an' raised me like his own wit' his own son Henri. De are my famille, known non other. As far as I'm concerned, I don' have any other famille."

Rogue gapped at his revelation. _No one else at the mansion would understand that. They'd all think ah'd secretly want ta meet mah real parents. Only to spit in their face, ah'd say. Sure, Scott was an orphan too, but his parents died. An' they loved him 'fore that. Kurt might, but with Mystique didn't mean to abandon him. I can still feel the tortured emptiness she felt when she dropped him into the river. She loved him, whether things could work 'tween them now o' not. But Remy havin' such a similar past. He must be pullin' mah chain._

"Ya lying, swamp rat?" she almost regretted asking, but she had to make sure.

Remy looked hurt. "NON!"

Rogue's eyes shot quickly to the floor. "Sorry, Remy. It's just that ah've been lied ta so many times, it's hard for meh ta tell when people are actually tellin' meh the truth o' just want to manipulate meh inta doin' somethin' for 'em." Rogue started to rack up the balls for another round.

Remy was still hurt at her question, but he knew she had no real reason to trust him. "Apology accepted. Now you ready to get your butt kicked again?" Remy took aim to break.

"Bring it on, Cajun." Rogue grinned ready to put her new plan into play.

* * *

Wanda and John stood outside the vile store. John looked up at the storefront and confessed. "I'm scared to go in there."

"Stop being such a baby." Wanda grabbed his hand and entered Abercrombie & Finch. When they entered the store it was as if the whole world stopped to look at the sight. A cough came from somewhere in the back. Wanda looked around as if everything was normal. She saw a table of men's sweaters one girl had just finished folding. She walked over to the table with John in tow behind. She started lifting up various sweaters, holding them up to John's chest then haphazardly tossing them back on the neat table.

"What are you doing?" John whispered in her ear.

"Playing mind games with the hired help," Wanda replied.

It wasn't long before a salesperson had come over to "help." It was the same girl who had just spent the last hour folding each and every sweater that Wanda had tossed aside. Through clenched teeth she asked the witch, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, my friend here needs a sweater, and I simply can't decide what color he looks best in," Wanda said in a very fake cheerful voice.

"Well why don't we pick a few out and he can try them on in the dressing room," the salesgirl said, trying to get Wanda as far away from the sweater table as possible.

John stood there uncomfortably and whispered to Wanda, "You didn't say anything about having to _wear_ the clothes!"

Wanda pretended to be very interested in the sweater choosing, but was too busy trying not to laugh at her torturing of her companion. "Stop whining. I have a plan." _Yeah, to laugh at you after I force you to wear Abercrombie & Finch clothes! Do I find too much enjoyment in other people's misery_? _Nah._

The salesgirl was extremely happy after she managed to stop Wanda from messing up her table. She led the pair to the back dressing rooms with six sweaters. "Be sure to find me if you need anything else," she was required to say but silently prayed that they would just leave. She hurried back to her table to clean up before her manager found her and yelled at her for not folding the sweaters like he asked.

Meanwhile in the dressing room, John was having to do a lot of convincing to get himself to try on the sweaters. He had managed to take off his ACDC shirt and actually touch one of the sweaters in the pile.

"What exactly is your insidious plan?" John called out to Wanda waiting outside the dressing room.

"Can't tell. It's a secret plot," Wanda replied.

_Yeah, right. She probably just wants to see what she can make me do that I don't want to._ John then concocted a plan of his own. _I'll show her._ John put his arms through the sweater and grunted. "Houston we have a problem," he announced to Wanda.

"What?"

"I can't get the sweater on," John lied.

"What do you mean, you can't get the sweater on? It's a sweater for goodness sake. I wore a straight jacket for six and a half years of my life, and I can figure out how to put a sweater on," Wanda was astounded at his incompetence.

"Nice speech, but I don't think the sweater understood it; it is still giving me difficulties," was the Aussie's response.

Wanda let out an agitated sigh. "Moron. Does your mother still come by in the mornings to dress you? I'm coming in to help you out." An annoyed witch stomped over to John's dressing room and let herself in. Wanda saw St. John standing there with the sweater on his arms and his bare chest, which wasn't that poorly built. He even had a little two-pack.

"So what's the -" Wanda started to say before she was interrupted with a pair of genuine Australian lips. It was soft and moist, and the sensation was unlike anything Wanda had ever felt before. It sent shivers through her body as she leaned further into the kiss. The lights above the couple started to glow brighter and flicker on and off. There were some screams and yells heard from around the store when the lights would go out, but the couple in the dressing room was oblivious. Wanda wrapped her arms around John's neck and deepened the kiss.

John opened his eyes wide in surprise. _Didn't think my plan would actually work. One point for the man from Oz_. John wiggled one of his arms out of the dreadful sweater so he could put it around her waist.

John started to pull away for a breath, but Wanda still wanted more. She jumped onto John and kissed him again. But unfortunately John was not prepared for the added body weight, and they both fell backwards into some clothes that were hanging up on the wall and then onto the floor. Wanda pulled away this time. The lights came back on as if nothing had happened.

John was smirking underneath her in their little cave made of Abercrombie & Finch merchandise. Wanda returned the smile and started laughing. John joined her. It felt good to laugh together; it felt right. Their eyes locked again. They both leaned in.

An announcement came over the P.A. system in the store, breaking their moment. "Will the customers in dressing room six please exit the fitting area."

"Dressing room six, that sounds familiar." John tried to remember. "Wonder what they're doing in dressing room six."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "I think they're making out underneath a pile of Abercrombie clothes." Wanda then realized something. "Eww, I'm touching Abercrombie clothing." She sat up and threw the merchandise in the corner.

John propped his body up on his forearms. He didn't catch onto Wanda's allusion right away, "But that's what we're doing. Copycats…OH! I get it." He sheepishly smiled and started to get up.

Wanda stood in front of the mirror and smoothed out her shirt. "How did they know what we were doing?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Well they do have those cameras behind the mirrors in dressing rooms to deter shoplifters. We probably just gave a very good show to the security guards." John searched for his shirt and jean jacket in the mountain of clothes.

"Perverts," the witch stated. Wanda glanced over to where John was bent over still trying to find his clothes. _Nice ass too_. She shook her head to purge it of that thought. "I'll wait for you outside," she told John as she opened the door to the room.

Nearing the exit of the fitting rooms, Wanda heard the salesgirl that had "helped" them earlier: "And the girl had red and black hair. She was wearing a red tank top, black low-riders, and combat boots. She also had a lot of jewelry on. The guy was a little taller than she was and had a dark t-shirt on and jeans. They were acting real strange. I bet they're mutants or something. You had better get that billy club out, you might need it." Wanda was pressed flat up against the wall, out of view from the sales girl. She peaked around the corner to see six security guards with builds like Sabertooth. There were also about ten other men in uniform. Wanda grabbed her head. _They look just like the asylum guards. _She started shaking. _They won't take me back! They won't take me back!_ The lights started flickering again.

"You were right to call us," one of the ten men in the uniforms said to the security guards. "The girl's description matches that of an uncontrollable mutant patient that escaped from our institution." He looked at the flickering lights. "And from what is going on here, I am sure it is her."

John came up behind Wanda and touched her quivering shoulder. "What's wrong?" he looked concerned. Wanda didn't say anything, but she had this scared look in her eyes. John peered around the corner for himself and saw the two sets of guards.

"I can't believe they called security on us!" John whispered. "It's not like I was trying to burn down the store or anything."

Wanda got a hold of herself and the lights stayed on. "They know who I am," she said. A few seconds later added, "I won't let them take me back!" The Scarlet Witch clenched her fist. There was a rumble throughout the store. John knew Wanda was the cause of it. He grabbed her by the shoulders and led her back to dressing room six.

"Calm down, girl," John made her sit on the small corner bench. "Now what's this about taking you back where?"

"They'll take me back to the asylum," Wanda shivered.

"Didn't they release you?" John asked, realizing he had no idea what Wanda had gone through the last six and a half years of her life.

"No, Mystique broke me out." Wanda clenched her teeth. "They will _never_ take me back." The lights flickered again.

"Hey," John knelt down and looked her in the eyes. "I won't let them lay a hand on you."

John stood up and looked around. "Now we can't just walk out and trash the place or we will never be able to come back and wreak havok." John looked up at the ceiling, and an idea hit him. He stood Wanda up and whispered in her ear, "I'll set off the sprinklers. The whole store will be in chaos and the security won't see us slip out with the rest of the customers."

"But the salesgirl is out there and she gave them our descriptions," Wanda informed John.

"We'll just have to suffer and wear some of these clothes until we get out." John looked down at the mountain of discarded clothing. He picked an article up. "Hey, there is even a hat you can wear to disguise your abnormal hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Wanda's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing. I love it. It is just very distinctive, and that is not the look we are going for right now," John reassured her. She took the hat, but did not start to put on any other clothes.

"I am NOT wearing those clothes," she declared.

John, who had already thrown on some baggy khaki's over his jeans, looked around, "Here, wear my jacket over your shirt, that should be good." He handed her his jean jacket.

Wanda put on the jacket and examined herself in the mirror, "So there are really people watching us through these mirrors."

"Yep, that's what I hear. Hey, you wanna make these security ink things fall off," John said after he slipped on a striped long-sleeved shirt over his own. Wanda complied and off fell the security tags.

John pulled out his lighter and made a fireball. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, all set," Wanda said still facing the mirror. John sent the fire up to the sensor. He glanced back at the red witch for a second and noticed that she was buttoning up her tank top.

"What'd you do?" John exclaimed. The alarms started going off and the sprinklers sprayed water down throughout the store.

Wanda fixed the ball cap on her head. "I distracted the surveillance people."

"You flashed them!" John exclaimed again. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to do that? I would have liked to watch the show!"

Wanda grabbed John, who was still stunned, and ran out of the fitting room area. As John had predicted, the guards were busy ushering the screaming, frightened customers out of the store to notice the two slip out with the other screaming people.

Once outside the store the two watched the spectacle. Alarms were going off and people were getting inked, because they forgot to put down their future purchases as they ran to the exit. About fifty very wet people were getting very angry. The store managers and salespeople were also angry as they would have to clean the mess up. John and Wanda laughed and started to walk away after the fire department arrived.

"So where to next?" A soaked John put his arm around and equally wet Wanda. Unfortunately she did not get a chance to respond as they were recognized by two people they did not expect.

A woman with very long, wet, and heavy red hair glared at them. Her companion looked even less thrilled as he had just got finished wiping the water marks off his sunglasses with his eyes shut.

"You two are behind this, aren't you!" Scott accused.

John played dumb. "Hey, don't point that finger at us. We were just in there looking for a sweater for my brother when the place when kamikaze. Right, Red," John looked at Wanda, she wasn't paying any attention to the conversation. She kept peering at the asylum guards from under her ball cap. One of them caught her doing it. She started shivering again, the lights were flickering, and the building started groaning. _Please avoid a scene, we can't have the guards recognizing us,_ John prayed. _Wait…_ John looked Jean and Scott up and down. That day Jean did not happen to be wearing her character outfit but a pair of low-riding black flares and a red T-shirt. Scott was out of form too as he had a pair of jeans and a navy blue long sleeve shirt on. _This is too easy. They practically match the description of us the salesgirl gave security_.

"Would you excuse me for a moment," John interrupted Scott's ranting. He reassuringly squeezed Wanda's hand and winked at her. Wanda watched with confusion when he wondered over the closest security guard.

"I couldn't help but overhear earlier that you were looking for the couple in dressing room six," John said to the burly man. "After the sprinklers came on, I came out of room seven and saw those two come out of room six." He pointed to Jean and Scott. The guard followed his gaze.

Meanwhile, with John gone, Jean and Scott started directly lecturing Wanda: "You think just because you're so powerful, you don't have to play by the rules everyone else does." Jean got in Wanda's face so she could not ignore her anymore. "Well, it doesn't work that way! Look at what you've done! Just because you are miserable doesn't mean you have to make everyone else miserable too!"

Wanda's fear turned to anger, "Are you my new psychiatrist?" The lights had stopped flickering but the ceiling continued to groan.

"I don't have to be a psycologist to understand someone like you," Jean snapped.

"Let's get one thing straight, Red! You don't know me so don't even pretend to. And as for my power goes," the ceiling groaned even louder, "you keep it up and you will be getting a first hand taste of it."

"You don't scare me," Jean said, "You're just a frightened little girl whose daddy locked her away."

That was it. Wanda caused the steel beam above them to snap and fall. Jean put her hands to her temples and pushed the beam away from her and Scott, toward Wanda. She ran and jumped out of the way.

The security guards eyes widened at the site of a red haired woman, in a red top, and black bottoms, next to a guy a little taller than she, dressed in a dark top and jeans. His eyes grew even wider when he saw the steal beam fall and it unnaturally move away from the couple, toward a tomboy in a jean jacket. "Thanks, kid." The man instantly picked up his radio and started relying the message to the other guards. "I have sited the two suspects from dressing room six outside in the corridor near the set of four fake palms…"

To finish the effect, John took out his lighter from behind his back. He sent a fire puppy running toward Scott and Jean, who then elevated them away from the flames. This supplied more proof to the guards that Jean was their girl. John slipped away, walked past Jean and Scott, took Wanda by the arm and led her away. "Be good kids!" he called back to them. Jean and Scott stared after them, not noticing several security guards coming up behind them. After they were jumped, John turned around and started to walk a little faster.

"What did you do?" Wanda asked between chuckles at the site of the X-men team leaders being apprehended by mall security and the asylum guards.

"I told the guy that I recognized the couple from dressing room six." John and Wanda rounded a corner toward the food court.

Wanda stopped and pulled John to a stop at her side. "Thank you," she said sincerely for once in her life. Then she kissed him and pushed him into the side hallway towards the lockers and restrooms.

* * *

"Bye everybody!" Kitty yelled as she, Amara, and Piotr exited the mansion. Piotr had pretty much followed Kitty around for the last half hour. First, they wandered around looking for Amara.

"You better not be memorizing the layout of the new mansion for future attacks," Kitty teased Piotr, knowing that he wasn't just by the look on his face.

"No, that is Remy's job. I am more of the brute force. And John supplies the crazy," Piotr looked around at his surroundings, having no idea which door they had come in and absolutely no sense of direction as to where the exit would be. He told Kitty of his thoughts. "I think that if you were to disappear, I would be wondering around here for several days before I found the entrance again."

"Disappear like this?" Kitty phased through the floor.

Piotr stepped around and looked at the floor, "Where did you go? Come back, please." His last sentence was filled with a little fear.

Kitty popped up behind him and giggled. He spun around. "That was not funny."

"I thought so." Kitty giggled, but then noticed that Piotr was less than comfortable. "Sorry, I just wanted you to, like, loosen up a little." Kitty grabbed his hand and held up the other, palm facing outward: "I promise not to do it again." She then let go of Peter's hand, picked up her painting and continued searching for Amara. They eventually found her playing Sorry with Jamie and Sam in Jamie's room. After informing Amara of the plan for that night, Kitty and Peter spend the next twenty minutes hanging up her painting in her room and talking.

_You know, this guy isn't half bad_, Kitty thought during their conversations about art, music, and ballets.

"Yes, my family did not have a lot of money, but once for my mother's birthday, my father got the family tickets to the Russian ballet," Peter reminisced. "It was so beautiful. Although not everyone in my family could say so. My older brother fell asleep before the first intermission, and my sister Illyana was so young, she does not remember much."

_Peter is such a sweetie; how in the world did he end up working for Magneto?_ "You have brothers and sisters? I don't," Kitty said. "I used to wish for a little brother or sister. I thought it would be so much fun. Then I moved here and realized that I had it good being an only child. No sharing the bathroom. No hostile roommates. No waking up with whipped cream, like, all over your face." Kitty then realized she was talking a little too much about herself. "Where is your family now?"

Peter sighed sadly. "What is left of it is back in Russia, in a small town near St. Petersburg."

"What do you mean what is left of it? What happened?" Kitty inquired sincerely.

An extremely sad and painful look came over Peter's face. He was silent for a while, then looked at his watch. "Is it not about time we left for the movie?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Kitty answered quietly. They both stood up and headed for the door. Kitty put her hand on the knob but did not turn it right away. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to," Kitty apologized.

"It is okay. I do not like to talk about it," Peter responded.

"Well if you ever do, feel free to call me. I may talk be able to 'talk a leg off a horse,' like Logan says, but I'm a good listener too." Kitty smiled warmly at Peter.

"Thank you," was all Peter could think to say. Before Kitty could open the door, Amara bust in. In a split reaction, Kitty phased through the door, but Peter was not so lucky and it hit him in the nose.

"Ouch!" Peter's hand instantly flew to his nose. He didn't feel any blood, it just hurt like nothing else.

"Sorry," Amara apologized meekly, making sure she kept the door between her and the Russian giant.

"Hey let me see," Kitty tried to move Peter's hand away from his nose. "Like, hold still." This time, he did as the Kitty said and she pried his hand away for his face. "It just looks bruised, not broken or anything. Do you want any ice or anything?" she asked.

"Uh…no thank you." Peter inhaled through his nose. It hurt, but he's live. "I think I will be all right."

"Great!" Amara shouted and opened the door fast and wide again. This time Kitty was ready and phased both her and Peter through it. "Oh, yeah, sorry," Amara apologized again.

"Like, don't worry about it," Kitty reassured Amara. "Let's get going before we miss the movie." Kitty grabbed Peter's hand and they followed Amara out the front door. "Bye, everybody!" Kitty called as they exited.

* * *

Rogue blew a stray white hair out of her face as the cue ball she just hit skimmed the wrong side of the eight ball sending it away from pocket.

"You ready to answer a question truthfully this time, chere?" Remy boasted, "'cause it looks like de Cajun is gonna win again."

"Looks like is right, swamp rat," Rogue doubted his ability. _But just in case…_ Rogue stood at the opposite end of the table as Remy. She leaned over and put her elbows on the table, then rested her head in them. This gave Remy a perfect view of Rogue's cleavage while he was aiming. Remy looked to where he was shooting one last time before he took the shot and was a little distracted. The cue flew forward uncontrollably, hit the cue ball on the side, then sent a blue streak of chalk across the table.

"Ya better be more careful, Remy." Rogue stood up and walked around the table to line up her shot. "Ya almost nicked the table."

"Dat was low," Remy said.

"What do ya mean?" Rogue innocently asked.

"You know what I mean; you doin' dat while I was tryin' to take a shot." Remy could not form the words to make his statement anymore specific. He was still too shocked that Rogue would actually do that, and that it caused him to loose his concentration.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Is it that different from ya runnin' your finger across the small o' mah back o' brushin' against my arm, o' conveniently bending down ta pick up a quarter when ah'm takin' aim."

"Hey, dat quarter paid for dis game," Remy objected.

"Remy, ah watched ya drop the thing two turns before ya picked it up," Rogue stated. "Ya didn't think ah saw ya, did ya? Ya're not as good o' a thief as ya thought."

"Really?" Remy said sarcastically. "Den how did I get dese?" It was the keys to the X-Jeep.

Although she knew they were not there, Rogue still felt her right pocket for the keys. She snatched them from his hand and put them back in her pocket. She gave him an evil glare.

Remy continued to smile. "An' dis?" This time Remy pulled a necklace out of his coat, which was hanging on a nearby chair. Again Rogue's hand when to her neck to confirm it was her necklace.

"What else are ya hidin' in there?" Rogue exclaimed and started looking at his trench coat. Remy grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

He shook his finger at her. "Nah, nah, nah. I d'ink dat's a question, an' you have yet to win the game."

Rogue walked back over to the table. She lined up her shot. Remy walked up beside her and whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry."

Rogue put her cue down. "Sorry 'bout what?"

"I'm sorry if my reaction discouraged any possible repeat o' your 'distractions.'" Remy cocked his head and smiled. "I did enjoy it."

Rogue punched him in the arm. "Seven."

Remy rolled up his sleeve to exam his beautiful blue bruise. "You know, I should file fo' spousal abuse o' somethin'."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Ah think that would be a little hard bein' that we aren't married."

"Not yet, chere." Remy grinned.

"What would a swamp rat like ya know 'bout marriage, anyways?" Rogue went to line up her winning shot again.

"A lot more den you."

"How do ya figure that?"

"Did you win de game yet?" Remy asked.

"Eight ball, right corner," Rogue agitatedly said. The cue ball hit the eight, which skimmed the table to the right corner pocket. "Now, what in the world does a swamp rat like ya know 'bout marriage?"

Remy tried to be mysterious. "I know a lot o' things."

Rogue wasn't buying. "Not satisfied."

The Cajun sighed. "Had one once. Even made it all de way to de altar."

"Ya kiddin', right?"

"How come you gotta question everythin' I say?"

"Ah don't! Ah just don't see ya as the marryin' type," Rogue told him her reasoning behind her comment. _Your more o' _

_the love 'em an' leave 'em type._

Rogue stood there expectantly, although Remy clearly wished to end the discussion of his almost marriage. Rogue broke the silence. "Ah'm not satisfied with your answer yet."

Remy sighed. "Suppose you wanna hear de long version too?" Rogue smiled and nodded. Remy sat down at a small table nearby. Rogue joined him. "Okay. My famille is de head of a guild in New Orleans, de thieves' guild. We be a family o' thieves. No big surprise there." Rogue nodded and inconspicuously felt for her keys again. "Dere is another big guild in New Orleans: De assassins. Now, de assassins and de thieves don' get along too well. They have been warrin' against each other for longer than anyone can remember. Now 'bout ten years ago, my papa an' de head o' assassians met for talks. De last couple years had been real bloody an' was takin' a toll on both guilds. During dese discussions dey decided to unite de guilds through marriage. De only daughter o' de head o' de assassians would marry one of Jean Luc's boys: Me or Henri. Now, Henri was 'bout sixteen at de time an' de idea o' an arranged marriage did not sit well wit' him. I was de same age o' Belladonna, de assassin's daughter, so it was logical dat we be betrothed."

"So ya didn't really love her?" Rogue asked.

"Non, I didn't say dat." Remy looked up and thought for a moment. "I did, back then. We were always together, 'cause o' our families, and she was very beautiful and strong, as an assassin's daughter should be. We were childhood sweethearts. Not dat she returned my feelin's, but dat is another story. So, we were plannin' dis wedding for years an' years. Big event, everybody who was anybody was there on Belle's birthday, when we were gonna get married. Well, everyone knew I was some kinda mutant 'cause o' da eyes, but everyone figured it ended there. I certainly thought so…"

Rogue saw a little of where this story was heading.

"Well, imagine marryin' what you d'ought was the girl o' your dreams, who didn' love you, an' de added pressure o' makin' it work so your families would stop killing each other. I was not in de best o' shape dat day. So, I was standin' up at de altar, waitin' fo' de party to start, playin' with Belle's wedding band. "Here comes de Bride" starts playin' an' den I remember dat de best man is suppose to be holdin' de ring. So I quickly handed it to de best man, who just happened to be Belle's only brother. Well, apparently while I was playin' wit' de ring, I had charged it. An' I don' mean a little charge like de card I gave you. Remember dat?"

Rogue groaned. "I'd rather forget." She had come around the corner of the crate to met the glaze of one sweet looking Cajun. He smiled and she couldn't just touch that unsuspecting soul. It was like she was in a trance when he handed her the King of Hearts, bowed and left. She felt so stupid to have her head turned like that for a pretty face. If Beast hadn't been knocked out, she would have followed that Cajun and kicked his ass.

"Why's dat?"

"Ya didn't win the game, Cajun. It's mah turn to ask the question," she rightfully avoided the question. "Now continue with your story. Ya charged the ring…"

"Oh, yah. I charged de ring so much dat it spread to Jillian's hand and up his arm. Kinda blew it clean off. He was screamin', everyone was screamin', I got so scared dat I lost any control I may have had an' could feel everythin' chargin' up around me, even the air. There were explosions everywhere an' eventually de whole roof blew up." Remy looked down at his empty drink. Rogue had convinced him to get a coke the last round. Actually all she said was that it made her sick when he breathed on her, his breath smelt so vile.

Rogue surprised him and herself when she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. He looked up, and Rogue stared at her own reflection in his glasses. _Damn glasses, ah can' read his eyes with them on. An' ah kinda miss his weird eyes too._ After a few moments, Rogue spoke, "Ya know, ya don't have ta finish. Ah didn't realize…"

"Non, I will. Huh, it kinda feels good to tell someone," Remy interrupted. "Let's see. Yes, the church was still burnin' when my papa found me. He had just had an argument with Belle's father. Seems de weddin' was off, now an' forever an' dat in order to keep a war from breakin' out again, my papa would have to 'Banish dat good for nothin' mutant pity case of a son from New Orleans an' de guild.' My papa wanted to fight for me to stay, but I was already gone. O' I woulda been if the assassin's hadn' jumped me. De beat me up pretty good before I lost control again. Dis time I charged up one guy's whole body. I remember watchin' him standin' dere, lookin' like he was on fire, but not feelin' any burnin'. Den boom."

"Ah'm sorry, Remy. An' ah thought mah powers manifested horribly. Ah couldn't 'magine dealin' with mah powers an' havin' ta leave everyone ah ever knew behind an' facin' it alone," Rogue sympathized. "What did ya do after that?"

_Den probably de most evil man in de world found me, fixed me so I wouldn' blow up anymore people, and used me fo' things I'd rather forget._ Remy decided to leave that part of his past a mystery. "I ran. Wandered around the streets of whatever big city I felt like. Prayin' I didn' charge up anyone else. I somehow got control o' it, den Magneto found me an' introduced me into de most amazing girl I ever did meet." Remy added and smiled to lighten the mood.

"What 'bout Belladonna?" Rogue asked.

"Belladonna is old news. Never loved me anyway. 'sides she isn't nearly as bright and talented as you." Remy tried to flatter her. It didn't work.

"If ah'm that bright, then why am ah datin' you?" she sparked back.

Remy raised one eyebrow. "Non, dat's not de question you should be askin' yourself. You should be wonderin' 'If I'm dat bright, den why am I not utilizing de most secluded table in de joint?'"

Rogue kicked him under the table. "Eight."

"Now dat's not how you play footsy, chere." Remy then proceeded to show her by rubbing his foot up and down her leg. Rogue instantly pushed back from the table and stood up. "Non, you're not suppose to get up. You're suppose to return de favor."

"The only favor ya're gonna get from meh is a black eye, if ya keep it up," Rogue threatened.

"Can ya at least make it match my blue arm?" Remy said, telling her that he had no intention of stopping. He stood up and walked over to their secluded pool table. "Another game, chere?"

"Your on, swamp rat," Rogue smiled evilly.

* * *

Back at the mall, one young couple was sitting on a bench in the center of the mall and occasionally chuckling. John had ditched his Abercrombie clothes in an empty locker after claiming they were giving him a mental rash. They had wondered into the dollar store and purchased new hats and sunglasses. John wanted to get the kind with the fake nose and mustache, but Wanda told him that if he did, not to expect her company the rest of the night. So John relented. So now Pyro and the Scarlet Witch were sitting on the bench in their hats and sunglasses, with Wanda still in the Aussie's jacket, sipping a big gulp and eating ice cream, respectively.

"What about that one?" John pointed to a middle age man with a Victoria Secret's bag.

"Briefs," Wanda guessed.

"Really? I'm gonna have to go with boxers on this one," John challenged. Wanda dropped her spoon and waved her hand toward the unsuspecting shopper. Two steps later his pants were around his ankles to reveal a pair of whitie tighties.

"Told you," Wanda said and shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"I gotta get one right sooner or later," John exclaimed.

"Why don't you try that one?" Wanda pointed to another man, late twenties, long hair, definitely an old Gen Xer.

"Boxers," John guessed again.

"Boxer briefs," Wanda sighed and predicted. She again worked her mojo but this time was surprised to see that the man wore no underwear at all.

"Ew, commando!" John grimaced and looked away.

Wanda continued to look. "Wow."

"What are you doing?" John asked. "You're too young to see that." St. John attempted to cover her eyes with his hands.

"Oh yes, and you have the maturity of a man a whole three years older than I am," Wanda commented and brought his hands down. To her disappointment, the guy had already pulled up his pants and gotten lost in the crowd.

John looked at his watch: It was twenty to ten. "The mall will be closing soon, you wanna get get going?" he asked.

"Once more," Wanda said as an impish grin formed on her face. She had just noticed one couple in the crowd she wanted to torture. "How about those two? The ones with the sour expressions on their faces?" Wanda nodded in their direction.

An equally evil grin appeared on John's face. "I gotta say briefs on the guy, 'cause he's one uptight bugger. And the girl," he thought for a second, "I'd say bikini cut."

"Really?" Wanda questioned. "I agree with you on the guy but I'd say the girl has old granny panties for sure."

"I beg to disagree," John stuck with his first choice. "I think deep down she wishes she was a wild one and has the panties to prove it."

"Let's find out," Wanda shot two hex bolts from her hand toward the couple. Contact! John and Wanda's mouths gaped open: John was right about Jean, she had on a pair of metallic green bikini cut underwear. But for Scott they were oh so very wrong. He was wearing a red thong!

"Well, now we know it isn't a stick shoved up his ass," John remarked. "It's his underwear." The troublemakers tried to sneak away, but the team leaders of the X-men spotted them.

"You're gonna pay for this!" Jean screamed as she pulled up her pants. Scott was still in shock.

"What are you gonna do? You're precious Xavier wouldn't be happy if you used your powers in public to beat up a couple of people, now would he," John taunted them.

Jean grew as red as her hair. Scott woke himself up and fixed his bottoms in time to hear John's last remark. Scott was going out for blood after reviling to the Bayville world that he wore thongs. "You'll have to leave the mall eventually." Scott's eyes glowed from behind his ruby-quartz glasses.

_Oh shit, _John thought. Wanda knew she couldn't use her full powers without attracting the asylum guards again so she hexed the couple to the floor, grabbed John's hand and headed toward the nearest exit. Jean and Scott were not far behind them. The pranksters hurried out the doors and across the parking lot on foot.

"Hurry, we'll follow them in my car," Scott called to Jean. They headed for red and white striped convertible. They jumped in without using the doors and Scott soon had it started up. He pressed on the clutch, slammed the car in reverse, and loud popping noises like a machine gun going off was heard. Scott ducked and slammed on the brakes. That action was met with the car's horn until Scott took his foot off the brake and pressed the clutch instead.

"What the!" he exclaimed. They hadn't heard any more gunshots so Scott tried to pull out again. The "machine gun" started up again once the car started moving. Only Scott ducked this time; Jean knew something was up. The car again honked when Scott slammed on the brakes. The red head got out of the car and examined the tires. They were incased in bubble wrap.

They were nearly out of the parking lot when John heard the successive "machine gun" and honking. He stopped abruptly, practically pulling Wanda's arm out of her socket.

"What are you stopping for!" Wanda yelled at the laughing Aussie.

"I didn't know it was his car!" John laughed hysterically. "This is great!"

"What are you blabbering about?" Wanda demanded to know.

"On the way in I saw this red and white convertible with the top down. I decided to have a little fun and wrapped the tires in bubble wrap to make that popping sound and then I popped the hood and wired the horn to the brakes," John managed to get out between laughs.

They then heard some tires squealing along with an occasionally honk. "Must figured out the bubble wrap already. Looks like it's time to scram." John and Wanda joined hands and started running through the downtown Bayville area.

They were just about to cross a street when a blur of red and the sound of a car horn warned them that Jean and Scott had picked up their trail. They decided to try running through the crowds on the streets to lose them. Wanda also happened to make every light turn red after they passed. Scott ran through the first two but was forced to stop at the third. They knew Scott had stopped because his horn was still wired to his brakes. Scott slouched down in his seat so he could not see all of the angry glares he was getting from passerbys. John and Wanda raced through a crowd of people who had just exited a movie theater.

"That movie totally rocked!" Kitty exclaimed. Piotr nodded in agreement before John crashed into him.

"Oh hey Petey! How's it going?" John stopped to chat. But before Peter could open his mouth in response, Scott's car had stopped honking, signaling it was time to go. Wanda grabbed John's hand and they took off. "See ya later, Petey!"

Kitty, Amara, and even Peter were befuddled at the sudden arrival and departure of Pyro and the Witch.

"Hey, isn't that Jean and Scott," Amara pointed to the convertible speeding by with the couple with the crazed look in their eyes.

"Yeah, Scott looks angry," Kitty observed. "I haven't seen him that angry since I walked in on him in the bathroom when he was wearing his thong underwear."

"What!" Amara exclaimed. "I always pictured him as a briefs guy." She shrugged. "Thongs, huh. No wonder he's so pissy all the time."

Piotr did not know how to comment on the discussion about Scott's underwear so he changed the subject. "Did you girls want to go home now?" he asked.

"You're not sick of us already, are you Peter?" Kitty teased.

"No," Piotr blushed, "I do not think that I could grow tired of two lovely ladies."

Amara and Kitty smiled graciously, "Well, we don't have to be back home 'til like, eleven. I'm hungry. Let's go grab a bite to eat." The rest of the group agreed and they walked to the nearest pizza parlor.

* * *

A young sexy Canadian walked past Vinyl Vintage near closing time. Between licks of her chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, she causally glanced into the store after she passed the doors. She did a double take. As if the story was put into reverse she walked backwards to the entrance and the bells rang as she entered.

Sly did not look up from counting the money in the register. "Just a warning, we're closing soon so when all the lights shut off, don't scream, just leave calmly out of the closest exit." The girl didn't respond and instead headed straight for the counter. Sly looked up and his jaw dropped. "Of course, if there is anything I can help you with, it would be my pleasure."

Ashley was just sweeping up when she felt the stranger intruding on her domain. She walked up next to her. "That's okay, Sly," she said sweetly, "I can help her." The Canadian didn't even look at her. Her eyes were locked with Sly's.

Sly waved Ashley off without even glancing in her direction. "That's okay, Ash. I can handle it. Now what are you looking for?"

The stranger's brow scrunched in concentration. "Do you believe in soul mates?"

The question threw Sly off. "Uh, I do now."

The Canadian girl smiled. "Awesome possum."

(A/N: That one's for you ishandahalf!)

* * *

Wanda rounded a corner and pressed her back up against the wall of the alley, out of breath. John came up right next to her and put his hands on his knees and started panting.

"Did we lose them?" the witch asked. A car honk was heard from the vehicle nearby.

"Don't think so. It's time we brought this chase to a close don't you think?" John asked Wanda as he pulled out his lighter for the umpteenth time that day. Wanda watched as a fireball grew in his hands. He then glanced around the corner and saw the convertible approaching. He sent out the fireball toward the front driver's side tire of the car. With the sudden increase of temperature, the air in the tire expanded and blew.

Scott's expletives were covered by the horn going on and off as he struggled to regain control. The car eventually skidded to the left side of the road and came to a stop, barely missing some parked cars and a mailbox.

"Where are you two hiding!" Scott yelled as he saw his blown front tire.

Jean put her hands to her temples and concentrated. "There, down that alley," Jean pointed to their location. The two ran towards the ally way; Scott's hand was already on his glasses. When they got there, it looked abandoned. There was just some crates and a dumpster.

"They're here, I can sense it," Jean told Scott. He went to look behind some crates. Jean surveyed her surroundings a bit longer and started toward the dumpster. All of a sudden the green dumpster started rolling toward them, the top of it opening and closing like a monster going to devour them. Jean tried to stop it with her telekinesis, but was hit by one of Scott's eyebeams which the dumpster reflected. Into the dumpster, the Scarlet Witch threw them and melted the lid shut.

"Shall we?" John held out his arm for Wanda to take. She did and they started a long moonlit stroll through Bayville.

* * *

Rogue was getting frustrated. Her brilliant plan to shamelessly flirt with the Cajun when he was shooting failed miserably after her first success. He not only fed off her degrading attempts to distract him, but he won the last three games! He asked her about when her powers first manifested, how she got to joining the X-men, and why in the world did she have a crush on Scott.

"Ah don't know," was her reply. "Ah guess he was the first person really ta reach out ta meh an' not be afraid o' what might happen if ah touched him." Remy nodded, seeing that as a reasonable excuse. Then Rogue smiled and added, "Plus he has a nice ass."

Remy's face dropped. "But mine's nicer right?" He craned his neck over his shoulder. Rogue laughed.

It was now game seven and the game was tensing up. Remy was leading with only three balls left out while Rogue had five. Rogue glanced at the table, noting the position of every ball. She smiled inwardly and formed a new plan in her head. Two of the striped balls were huddled around one corner pocket next to the eight ball, which was teetering in the edge. Rogue took aim but it wasn't for one of her solids. She lightly tapped Remy's last striped ball toward the other two so that the eight ball was completely surrounded by solids and threatening to fall in the hole.

Remy swore. Rogue smirked. "Ya're up," Rogue told the Cajun.

He looked at the table again and sighed. He might as well take a gambit; it was his codename, after all. He tried to put a light backspin on the cue ball and then try and use one of his balls to hit the eight ball away from the pocket. PLOP. It didn't work, and Rogue was the new winner.

"Finally," Rogue said. "Now, swamp rat, ya ready ta tell all?"

Remy plopped down on a chair. "Oui."

"Okay, now," Rogue was proud of her question, "What was the first thing ya thought of when ya saw meh for the first time."

Remy's eyes shifted under his shades. His memory went back to New York and watching the freaky girl take on Magneto. "I thought: That is one beautiful, fiery girl. She fights wit' all her heart, but remains alone, like me. She cuts herself off so people don' get hurt, just like I did for a while. But even though I have control now, I'm still alone. Never let anyone in after what happened in New Orleans. She's had some great pains in her life too, I can see it behind her bright eyes. Maybe I could start over again wit' her."

Rogue could not believe the emotion in his answer. "Ya go from bein' impressed and wantin' ta get ta know me better ta tryin' ta blow mah hand off?"

Remy smiled, "Non, I did dat ta get your attention. Make sure you knew the ragin' Cajun was there an' dat you wanted him."

"Mah god," Rogue rolled her eyes. "One o' these days someone has gotta pop your ego."

Remy stood up. "You ready for another game?" Rogue nodded and started to rack the balls again.

* * *

Kitty plopped down on her bed and glanced at the clock. _10:59 Just made curfew_. She then looked over at her new painting, hanging on the wall. _Tonight was such a nice break from those mundane dates with Lance. And Peter is such a sweetie. _Kitty then furrowed her brow in thought. _I didn't just, like, cheat on Lance, did I? No, Amara was there. Besides I made it clear that we were just going as friends. _

_Then why did you keep grabbing his hand and hugging him,_ another part of her mind asked.

_I couldn't help it. He's so shy; I just wanted to make him feel welcome and comfortable. _

_That's all? _Her mind pressed for a greater confession.

Well, maybe I do like him, like that, but that doesn't matter. I'm with Lance.

_But do you still want to be_? Her mind reminded her that her and Lance were not bound for life.

_I don't know!_ She tried to smoother her thoughts in her pillow.

She glanced over at her roommate's empty bed. _That's strange. Rogue's usually home by now, reading her freaky books._ It was already a quarter after eleven. _She's probably just in the library. Jamie will know_.

Kitty hopped up off her bed and went to the library: empty. She then headed towards the boys wing to find Jamie. On her way there she was confronted by a horrible stench. Jean and Scott were heading up the stairs. They had stains all over their clothes and smelt like moldy Chinese food.

"Like, what happened to you guys?" the valley-girl asked.

Jean growled, Scott answered, "Car got a flat tire and then we got thrown in a dumpster."

"Bummer. Was that, like, after you sped threw the intersection like a mad man? You looked about as angry as when I walked in on you in the bathroom that one time…" Kitty stopped when she noticed the anger darts coming from his eyes.

"Have you guys seen Rogue around?"

"No, if she isn't in her room, she's probably in the library," Jean guessed.

"I was just there, no Rogue," Kitty said.

Jean's eyes widened. "Scott, you don't think she actually when out with that guy who was in the store yesterday, do you? Gambler or whatever."

Scott shook his head. "She wouldn't. You remember. She said she didn't think it was a good time."

"But then she pulled that 42 nonsense out," Jean remembered. **KURT!** she called to him telepathically.

**Vhat? Vhat!** Kurt was in the kitchen making a late night snack with the food Ororo had specifically said not to eat, because it was for dinner tomorrow. Kurt thought he had been caught red…er… blue? Purple? Handed.

**Come here a minute, I have to ask you a question. **Jean answered.

Kurt bamfed over to the stairwell Jean, Scott, and Kitty were on.

"Ja? Pee yoo, and everyone says my smoke smells bad!" Kurt waved his three fingered hand in front of his nose.

Jean ignored that comment, "Kurt was does 42 mean?"

"Sorry, you have to read the book," Kurt turned to head back to the kitchen. Scott grabbed his shoulder and turned him back around.

"No, we don't have time. We think Rogue might be out with one of Magneto's men and we need to figure it out," Scott said.

"Vhat does that have to do with 42?"

"That is what she told him her answer was, then she let him borrow your book," Jean told him.

Kurt rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Vell, 42 is the answer to life, universe, and everything. Don't know how much help it is. It wasn't much help to the mice in the book. Vait! She let one of Magneto's lackeys borrow my copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?_"

Jean had an idea. "Did Rogue give you back the book, Kurt?"

"Ja, this morning before she left with the newbies," Kurt responded. Then he realized what Jean was hinting at. He bamfed to his room, grabbed the book off his desk and bamfed back to the stairwell. He flipped through the pages until he came upon the Deep Thought chapter. There written in pencil was "Yes, VV, 7pm." He showed it to Scott, Jean, and Kitty.

"Like, what's that suppose to mean?" Kitty asked.

"Yes, I will go out with you. Meet me at Vinyl Vintage at 7pm," Jean translated.

"We have to tell the Professor," Scott said as he marched his stinky self to the Professor's study.

* * *

Logan was dispatched within the hour. He stood in the back lot of Vinyl Vintage staring at the mutilated X-Jeep. _Well, that would help explain why Stripes didn't drive home, but where is she now?_ Logan sniffed the air and the ground. _There was another person here with her. Bub smells like gumbo. I wonder if that is why she smelt like Creole the other day._ Logan caught the sent of the two and headed off in the direction of the pool hall.

* * *

Remy won the next game. "Okay, Roguey, what is the one thing in your life you regret the most?"

Rogue thought for a minute. "It'd have ta be not kickin' your ass after ya tried to blow mah hand off."

"No, seriously," Remy said.

"Okay, probably not talkin' ta mah foster mom Irene after ah left the Brotherhood. She trusted meh in Mysique's care, they were old friends, an' ah didn't feel right callin' her after ah joined the X-men. She was the closest thin' ta a real mom ah ever had."

"You could always do it now, mend old bridges," Remy suggested.

Rogue shook her head. "Feels too late now. 'sides what if she asks 'bout Mystique. What am ah supposed to tell her. 'My friend Scott was angry at her an' left her ta be experimented on in Area 51'?"

"Sometimes you can' let de what ifs stop you. You just gotta do it," Remy said.

Rogue gave him a funny look. "Where did ya get that inspirational comment?"

"_Oprah_," Remy answered. "And Nike." Rogue laughed at the thought of Remy watching _Oprah_.

"Do ya know where the restrooms are in this place?" Rogue asked.

Remy pointed to a couple doors not far off. "Don' be long, chere. Remy might get real lonely." At that he made a puppy-dog face at her.

With an eye roll from Rogue, she entered the restrooms. Remy started to set up the table for another game when a stocky fellow with a gruff voice stormed in. Remy didn't recognize him, so he turned back to setting up solids and stripes.

Two strong hand grabbed Remy by the back of the shirt and threw him against the wall. Remy's sunglasses broke to reveal his glowing red on black eyes. Before the Cajun had time to grab a few cards, he was picked up off his feet and pinned up against the wall. One of the man's hands was holding him up by the front of his shirt and the other was prepped and ready for a punch in the face; or so Remy thought. Instead three claws popped out of the man's knuckles, two on either side of his neck and the center one stopping just before his jugular.

"Mutants!" "We gotta get outta here!" he heard the various shouts from around the pool hall, which had filled up within the last few hours.

Louis pulled out his shotgun from underneath the bar. "You two better get out of my bar."

Logan ignored him and growled. "Where's the girl, Gumbo? What have you done with her?"

"Nothin', I swear," Remy gulped. At that moment Rogue emerged from the restroom to see a vacant bar, a bartender with a gun, and Logan about to slit Remy's neck.

"Logan! What are ya doin' here?" Rogue exclaimed.

"Just takin' out some trash, darlin'. You all right?" Logan didn't take his eyes off the slippery Cajun.

"No! Put Remy down!" she ordered. "Don't make meh hurt ya, Logan." Logan glanced over at Rogue. She had her feet planted, ready to fight. One of her gloves was off. Logan and withdrawn his clawed hand a little farther away from Remy's neck. Before Logan demand to know what was going on, Remy brought up his legs and kicked him in the gut, causing Logan to smash into the pool table and Remy to land on the floor. Remy pulled out three cards from his back pocket and charged them. Logan shot out the claws from his other hand.

_They're gonna kill each other if ah don't do something_. Rogue grabbed a pool cue and ran between them. "Ya'll back off!" She was prepared to play lion tamer with the two. "Now Logan, what are ya doin' here?"

"Do you have any idea what time it is!" Logan yelled.

A blank look spread across Rogue's face. She looked around the bar for a clock, and found a dusty one above the door: five after midnight. "Oops," Rogue said after she realized she broke curfew.

"No, not 'oops'! You had the whole mansion worried. Scott said one of Magneto's goons had been hangin' around you, and you had been kidnapped," Logan reprimanded her. Remy growled at the mention of Scott and kidnapping. _Dat boy needs to stick his head out o' his box once in a while_.

"Sorry, what do you want meh ta say? Ah just lost track o' time, that's all," Rogue apologized.

"What about Gumbo, over there?" Logan pointed to Remy.

"What, Remy? He wanted ta cheer meh up after a lousy day at work, so we came here to play pool for a while. It's no big deal," she explained.

"No, it is a big deal, Stripes. You breakin' curfew with one of Magneto's henchmen is not smart. I'd expect you to have

more sense than that," Logan scolded her.

Logan's disappointment in her struck deep. Rogue hung her head low. She brought her head up for a second to look Logan in the eye. "He's not evil, ya know." Remy smiled at Rogue's comment, which caused Logan to growl again.

"Time to go, Stripes." Logan turned his back and headed out the door.

Rogue looked at Remy. "Ah'm sorry 'bout that. Ah'll see ya later." She scooped up her bag and followed Logan out.

Just before Rogue shut the door behind her, Remy called out. "You only hit me nine times; does dat mean we're friends?"

Rogue's smile revealed her answer. "See ya later, swamp rat."

Remy looked around the empty bar. He started to walk toward Louis, but Louis jumped back and pointed his shotgun at the demon-eyed boy. "Don't take another step closer, freak!"

"But Louis," Remy pleaded, "It's me, Remy. I'm sorry 'bout what happened tonight, but I promise it won't happen again."

"You bet it won't! 'Cause you and your friends aren't welcome here anymore, now get out!" Louis yelled, but you could sense the fear behind his voice.

"But Louis -" Remy tried to reason with him again.

"I said get out and never come back!"

Remy looked at him with sad eyes. He picked up his trench coat off the chair, pulled a wad of cash from its pocket. Remy flipped through it, counting it. He tossed it on the bar and walked out of Louis' place for the last time without saying a word.

Remy wandered around for a bit before heading to park to meet up with John and Piotr. _Wonder what John ended up doing. _Remy approached the bench where he tossed John out of the car. There were three people sitting on it. Piotr was on one end, reading a book by the street light; John and Wanda were on the other end. Wanda had her legs over John's lap and her head on his shoulder, sleeping. John was stroking her hair.

Remy came up behind them. "Looks like you guys had a good night."

"And you, Remy?" Piotr marked his spot and asked.

"Great, amazing even," Remy reminisced. "At least until one of her teachers came by an' tried to beat me up fo' keepin' Rogue out after curfew. Oh, and I got us kicked outta Louis' place."

"What is that, the fifth place in this town we're blacklisted on?" John asked no one in particular.

"I got Kitty and Amara home one minute before curfew," Piotr said.

Remy raised his eyebrows. "Two X-girls? You de new X-man pimp, Petey?"

Piotr scrunched his forehead in confusion, "What is a pimp?" Remy laughed. So did John, which woke Wanda up.

She stretched and yawned. "Oh, Santa finally arrived. What are we doing now?" Wanda looked around.

"I think it is time to call it a night," Piotr said. The four piled into the Acolytes vehicle and stopped to drop Wanda off before heading back to base.

* * *

(1) Line from the movie _Playing by Heart_. Ryan Phillippe with blue hair drools

**A/N**: Okay, I have an announcement to make that most of you are not going to like, but I will not be updating for several months. I unexpectedly got an internship, surveying vegetation in Washington and am going to have very limited internet access. If I'm lucky I will have free time to write the old fashioned way, but by the looks of it, don't count on it. I would like to thank all of those who have been reading my story and a special thanks and hugs to those who give me feedback. I do not plan on abandoning my story; it will just go dormant for a while. The thing is still banging around in my head, screaming to get out, so out it will come eventually.


	12. The Day After

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the X_-Men_/Marvel/WB characters, some of these lines are not even mine but taken or paraphrased from various cartoons and comics I've read. What can I say, but I suck with dialogue. Just have some story in my head that won't go away so I'm writing it down. I don't get any money for this, only a mild break in boredom.

St. John is not, by any means, a typical Australian or even a representative of Australians, so please do not journey to Australia expecting to find a whole bunch of trouble-making people to play with matches with. Especially in the forests there 'cause if you burnt those down I would have to hunt you down and beat you with a stick (just kidding but I would be enraged beyond words).

* * *

_thoughts_

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Twelve - The Day After**

Rogue stormed into her bedroom and threw herself down on her bed.

On the other bed, Kitty looked up from the history paper she was writing on her laptop. "So, what's, like, got you in a huff?"

Rogue hit herself on her head with her pillow. "Ah think ah just beat the record for time spent listening ta the Professor's lectures," came the muffled response from underneath the pillow.

"That bad, huh?"

Rogue removed the pillow from her face and looked at her roommate. "Two hours on Friday, followed by three hours an' twelve minutes this morning."

"He lectured you for three hours?!"

"Yah, he felt the need ta repeat what ah slept through the first time."

"How long are you grounded?"

"Three weeks."

"Slave labor?"

"Cook dinner an' clean dishes on the nights ah don't work."

"No fair!" Kitty objected, "When I got caught making out with Lance in the janitor's closet at school, I not only had to clean the X-Jeep with a toothbrush but I had to weed all of Ororo's plants all summer long!"

Rogue sat up and shrugged. "Just wasn't in mah stars." Rogue had to mentally slap herself for that comment (1).

"What?" Kitty curiously asked.

"Nevermind."

"Can you still go to that concert on Tuesday?"

"Ah don' think so. Ah wasn' gonna go before ah got grounded, so nothin's really changed," Rogue answered.

"But I thought you had tickets," Kitty questioned.

"Ah did."

"Then why not go?"

"Ah didn' feel like it anymore, an' now ah can't so what's the big deal?" Rogue snapped.

"Geez, you don't need to, like, bite off my head or anything," Kitty recoiled. "I just don't understand why you would buy tickets to a concert you were so excited to go to only not to go."

"No, ya don't," was Rogue's short answer.

"You could explain it to me," Kitty persisted.

"Yah, ah could, but ah won't," Rogue continued to avoid opening up to her roommate.

"Why not?"

Rogue gave Kitty an irritated look. "Ya're not gonna stop, are ya?"

"Nope." the girl from the Windy City smiled and shook her head.

The goth sighed. "Fine. Ah was suppose ta go with Risty, but she never came back from England."

"Since when do you need a buddy to go with you?" Kitty questioned.

"Look, ya asked, ah answered, an' ah just don' feel like goin' now so can ya please drop it?" Rogue snapped.

"Sure." Kitty then saved her paper and shut her laptop in order to give Rogue her full attention. "Sooo…new topic: How was your date last night?" Kitty giggled.

Rogue got an evil glint in her eye. "Ah should be askin' ya that question."

Kitty gasped. "How did you find out? I mean, it wasn't really a date or anything. We just went to a movie, then had pizza afterwards. Amara was there!"

Rogue raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Dinner an' a movie? Sounds like a date ta meh."

"No!" Kitty objected. Then she broke down, "I'm a horrible, horrible person!" She cried in her hands. "I cheated on Lance!"

"Whoa, girl," Rogue didn't think she'd react this way. As much as Rogue likes to upset people, she can't stand it when they cry in front of her. Rogue made her best attempt to console her sobbing roommate. "Ah was just teasing. Ya said it wasn't a date, so it wasn't a date. Please stop crying."

Kitty looked up with red eyes and wiped the tears from her face. "No, you were right." She groaned. "What am I going to do?!" Kitty fell back from her Indian style sitting position onto her bed in aspiration.

"Ya askin' me? The girl who has never had an' never will have a boyfriend?" Rogue questioned Kitty's plea for advice.

Kitty sat up. "Well, I can't go to Jean or anyone else or they're going to, like, jump up my ass for going out with one of Magneto's new boys, like they did with you. No one else supported Lance and me being together, and he's only a Brotherhood boy. Can you imagine what they'd put me through if I admitted I went out with Piotr?"

Rogue sighed and sat next to Kitty. "Okay. Question one: Do ya like Peter?"

"Like, as in friend-like or boyfriend-like?"

Rogue started to stand up at Kitty's avoidance of the issue. "Do ya want meh ta help ya o' not?"

"Yes," she mumbled and hung her head down.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I want you to help me."

"Now answer the question."

"Yes, I like Peter," Kitty quietly admitted.

"Okay, two: Are ya still interested in Lance?"

Kitty considered the question for a minute. "Well, yes, but our relationship has gotten kinda flat. I tried to perk it up, but I told you how that went (2)."

Rogue squinted her eyes in concentration. "Okay, here is the opinion o' a forever single, gothic feminist: Take a break from Lance, sort out your feelin's an' then after a couple weeks o' so start datin' again."

"Start dating who?"

"Ah don't know!" Rogue burst out. "That's what the sorting out feelin's part is for!"

"What makes you think I'll have any better idea then than I do now?" Kitty asked.

Rogue held up her hands defensively. "Hey, ya asked for mah uneducated advice an' that's what ya got. Ya want more, go talk ta Jean."

Kitty sighed and considered her options. _What options? I'm totally and utterly confused and lost and mad at myself. Beside, Rogue's plan has some sort of logic behind it; it could work. But since when does love have anything to do with logic. And it's not like she's ever been in this situation before. But what else could I do? Stay with Lance even though I'm not really happy right now. Keep cheating on him with Piotr? What if Piotr doesn't feel the same way about me? What if, after last night, Peter just thinks I'm some ditzy high schooller? Then I'd be breaking up with Lance, my first boyfriend, to sort out feelings that may never be returned. Man, this is, like, giving me a headache._ Kitty's hands moved to massage her temples, and she turned back to Rogue who was back on her side of the room, fiddling with her bookbag.

"Now I would like to hear about _your_ night," Kitty said to her roommate.

"That's nice," Rogue stated, ignoring Kitty's request.

"So?" Kitty tried to get the story started.

"So what?"

"Where'd you guys go? What did you do? What were you doing to keep you out after curfew?" Kitty winked and smiled.

"No! Get your mind outta the gutter!" Rogue exclaimed then turned away. "'sides, not like he can touch me anyway," she added quietly.

"So you _did_ want to do dirty things with him?!" Kitty concluded.

"No!" Rogue yelled even louder.

"Prove it! Tell me everything." Kitty challenged her.

"No! Why should ah?"

"I'll tell everyone you really like him, and maybe embellish on what I do know that happened last night," Kitty threatened. She smiled at her victory. She knew Rogue wouldn't want her telling people she likes the Cajun, so she'll tell her what happened.

"Fine." Rogue plopped back down on her own bed and started to pull out some school books.

"We went ta this bar downtown an' played pool all night," Rogue summed it up.

"And?" Kitty ached for more details.

"An' Logan came while ah was in the bathroom an' tried ta behead Remy. That's it."

"No, start at the beginning," protested an unsatisfied Kitty.

"Ah don't want ta." Rogue remained difficult.

"Why not? Did you guys grind between games or look at China in Pottery Barn magazines?" agrued Kitty.

Rogue fumed. "No! Why in the world would ah let him grind meh an' ah would never be caught dead with Pottery Barn?!"

Kitty smiled evilly. "Well, if you won't tell me what you really did, then I'll have no choice but to speculate and then share my theories with everyone."

"You wouldn't." Rogue tried to call the bluff.

Kitty got up and stuck her head out the door. "Amara! Jean! Kurt!…" Kitty started calling before Rogue put her gloved hand over Kitty's mouth and pulled her back into the room.

"Ah hate you," Rogue said and let go of Kitty and sat at the head of her bed.

"Yippee!" Kitty smiled and hopped onto the opposite side of Rogue's messy bed. Rogue silently glared at her. Kitty got the picture, sighed, and moved to her own bed.

"Okay, he comes into work 'bout six thirty ta be sure that ah won't stand him up -"

"Seems like he knows you already," Kitty commented.

"Ya wanna hear the story o' not?" asked an irritated Rogue.

"Yes."

"Then no more commentary," demanded the Goth.

"Okay, so it's six thirty an' the Vintage is dead 'cause of the anti-mutant stuff earlier -" Rogue started again only to be interrupted by a knock on their bedroom door. _My savior_, Rogue thought as she got up to answer it.

"Like, come back later!!" Kitty tried to discourage the interrupter.

Rogue opened the door to reveal Jean Grey. Rogue stood there, not inviting her in but waiting for her to state her business and leave.

"We have a danger room session in twenty minutes," Jean announced. Rogue started to push past her so she could grab a bite before the session, but Jean did not budge. "Can I speak with you?"

Rogue's face grew cold. "'bout what?"

"Alone," Jean added and looked at Kitty who was putting her history books neatly into her messenger bag.

"Fine," Kitty said disappointedly. She grabbed her uniform out of the closet and left to change in the bathroom.

Rogue stood in the center of the room with her arms crossed.

Jean repeated. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Do ah get ta time ya?" was The Rogue's quick response.

"Rogue!" Jean protested her triteness.

"Fine, ya can talk, but Ah'm not guaranteeing that Ah'm gonna listen."

"Fair enough," Jean sat down on Kitty's made bed. "I wanted to apologize for what went on while your were working on Friday. I was out of line -"

"Apology accepted," Rogue cut in and tried to bolt out the door. She didn't make it.

"Rogue! I'm not done yet," Jean held the door shut with her telekinesis. "What me and Scott did on Friday and last night, informing the Professor that you weren't home and who you were with, we're only trying to watch out for you. Magneto's new team isn't like the Brotherhood. They aren't just lost teenagers that need a place to live and belong. They know what they are doing, why they're doing it and they can be ruthless."

"Ya done?" Rogue questioned.

Jean hit Kitty's bed violently. Behind her Rogue could see the top of Kitty's pony tail phasing through the bed. "Why don't you care, Rogue?! They're dangerous! Even if this Remy guy befriending you has nothing to do with Magneto, that doesn't change what kind of man he is!"

Rogue's eyes grew cold and hostile. "And what kind of man is he?"

"He's a player, Rogue. You know that. He sees something he wants and will do absolutely anything to get it! He will play with your heart and then he will hurt you more than you know." Jean looked compassionately at her teammate.

"What makes ya think that ah'll let him?"

"I've seen it before. You think you can change him, that it is different with you, but in reality, it's not." Jean laid down what she thought as the truth. "He's a player. You are just a game, a challenge for him. Once he either wins or gets bored, he will leave you. I don't want to see you get hurt!

"You are falling for him already, I can tell that without being psychic. Why else would you agree to go out with him and stand up for him in front of Logan?" she continued. "That takes some level of affection."

Rogue didn't respond. She didn't know why she was standing up for him and letting him get close, well, closer than most other people anyway. In truth, she could not deny Jean's accusations so she didn't say anything for a few minutes. "Don't worry 'bout meh. Ah won't get hurt. Ah know what ah'm doin'," she stated.

"No, you are already lost. You like all this attention he is giving you despite your attempts to discourage him. Even his cheesy pick-up lines are probably starting to grow on you. If you don't stop seeing him, I'm afraid something horrible will happen when he leaves," Jean said the last part quietly and then looked at the floor.

Rogue did not like what the redhead was implying. "Like what, Jean? Think Ah'll fall for 'em then try ta kill mahself if he breaks it off. Ya give meh far too little credit. Let's get this straight." Rogue bent over to look Jean in the eye. "Ya don't know him. Ya don't know meh. So stop tryin' ta direct mah life where ya think is the best an' brightest an' safest."

Jean stood up and took a step closer to Rogue. In an aspirated voice she said, "I only don't know you, because you won't let me! You won't let anyone close." Jean lifted her hands and held Rogue by the upper arms. She tried to look her in the eyes as she spoke. "But all of a sudden this guy waltzed in." Rogue's mind flew back to her dream of them dancing. _Was it a premonition? What was it the penguins said again? 'Open, love, Slide.' What the hell did that mean? Open up to people or open up to him so he won't leave?_ Rogue shook it off and for some odd reason tuned back into Jean's rant, "…and despite everyone's warnings and concerns you go out with him, don't tell anyone and end up having to be hunted down by Wolverine!"

Rogue's eyes narrowed and she broke away from Jean's grasp. "What is this really about, Jean? Ya afraid ah'll get hurt or afraid ah'll leave the X-Men for some guy?"

Jean was quiet. "No Rogue. I know that despite your cold, non-caring façade you put on that you do believe in the Professor's philosophies. You've just lived here for so long and are just beginning to let us in. This guy is in your life for a couple weeks and probably knows you better than most your family, the X-Men."

Rogue still felt something was fishy. "Why do ya have a problem with him, though? Why not with Risty, too?"

"Risty isn't working for a man who believes in mutant superiority at any cost. She isn't someone who we know nothing about. She doesn't practically incite a riot in a CD store or take you to some shady bar and then trash it before he leaves."

"Ya don't know that much more 'bout Risty, and Logan played a big hand in 'trashing' the bar," Rogue pointed out.

"You're defending him again."

"So what?!" Rogue was getting tired of this. "Ah'll make mah own decisions 'bout who ah hang out with, an' ah'll make mah own mistakes."

"Sounds like you already have your mind made up." Jean sighed and headed toward the door. "My door is open if you ever want to talk."

"Yeah, whatever," Rogue said and she went to her closet to change for the danger room session. Jean shook her head and closed the door behind her.

After Jean left, Kitty, in her uniform, popped from under her bed. "What an ignorant…grrr," Kitty said as she threw her clothes down. "I mean, she dated that asshole Duncan for how long? Like, what did she really know about him aside from the fact that he was captain of the football team? He was a total jerk, a male-chauvinistic pig…"

"Thanks, Kit," Rogue interrupted. "We'd better be getting down to the danger room."

Kitty extended her hand to Rogue. "Grab onto the Shadowcat express. Second fastest mode of transportation to the danger room."

* * *

"Stripes, Half-pint," Logan growled, "You're late."

"Sorry, Logan, but somebody's pep talk dragged on a little long." Rogue started straight at Jean, who was now in full uniform.

"Did I ask for an explanation?" Logan asked. "You two have an extra practice session tomorrow morning before school." Rogue did not bother to mention that she was already training in the morning since she had to work in the afternoon, hoping that Logan didn't remember. She wasn't so lucky. "And no, Stripes, you won't be getting out of your regular session. You will start at 4:30 and half-pint will join you at 5:30." Both Kitty and Rogue groaned. Logan went on briefing for that day's session.

"Today we will be having a battle simulation involving Magneto's new recruits. We've only been up against them once so the information we have on their individual fighting skills, powers, and teamwork skills is limited.

"First is Sabertooth," Logan pressed a button on a remote control he held in his hand, and a hologram of Victor Creed appeared and rotated in the center of the room. "Nothing new here."

Logan pressed the button on the remote again. A hologram of Piotr Rasputin appeared. As it rotated, the hologram alternately displayed his normal and metallic forms. "Next codename Colossus. Not sure of his real name…"

"Piotr," Kitty absentmindedly interrupted.

"What was that Half-pint?" Logan asked.

"Uh, his name is Piotr Rasputin," she said quietly. All eyes in the room were on her, asking her how she knew his name. Luckily this session was for senior team members only or Amara and maybe Sam or Jamie may have recognized him from last night. Logan stood waiting for an explanation this time.

Kitty was scared stiff. Luckily Rogue had her back. "He came inta Vinyl Vintage one day when we were both there. He introduced himself."

After passing a skeptical glance at the pair, Logan continued the briefing. "Colossus has the mutant ability to form some sort of metallic, possibly steal or adamantium shielding over his body. He also possesses super human strength. He is Russian and we have reason to believe that Magneto is holding something over him, blackmail of some sort."

Kitty gasped. _That would explain why such a sweetheart like him is working for Magneto. Wonder if it has something to do with his family?_ No one else gave notice to Kitty's gasp as Logan was already onto the next mutant.

"…Goes by Gambit. He charges non-living objects with kinetic energy, causing them to explode when he releases them or on impact. His choice of weapons is playing cards. He also displays advanced hand fighting skills. It is also rumored that he has some sort of charming power…"

Rogue snorted at that. _Charming power? He wishes. He's just an uncontrollable flirt._

Logan was getting sick of being interrupted. "Rogue, is there anything you would like to add?"

_That bastard singled me out!_ she yelled in her mind. _How dare he?_ The goth crossed her arms over her chest and glared coldly at Logan. "No."

"Come on, Rogue," Scott piped in. "You can't tell me you practically spent all night with him and didn't learn anything to help us out here?"

Rogue turned her anger toward Scott. "No, not a thing," she growled.

Jean turned to face her. "Why are you protecting him, Rogue?"

Rogue grew red. "We promised that what we talked about last night would not cross over into our other lives."

"And you honestly think that he is not telling Magneto right now, all he learned? I never thought you were that gullible," said Jean.

Rogue stayed firm, she never flinched. Of course she thought that he might do just that. But there was something inside that told her he wouldn't. "_Ah_ promised."

"Rogue, if you are holding back any valuable information you could be putting the team in danger when we face them." Scott tried to persuade her.

"Ah'm not your spy, Scott," she retorted.

"Enough with the interrogation," Logan interrupted. "Next up. Pyro." Scott and Jean grew angry at the sight of the misfit who had caused them so much trouble last night. "Anybody know this guy's real name? Sat next to him on the bus or anything?" Logan halfway joked.

Rogue remained stone silent. She wasn't going to physically or verbally react to any more of this. By mentioning Pyro's real name would tell them that she was on a first name basis with all three. She figured Scott or Jean would suspect her of being some sort of double agent or something.

When no one responded to his question after a few seconds, Logan continued. "This bub is believed to be Australian. His mutant power is to manipulate fire, but we don't think he can create it. He does not seem to be much of a hand fighter and depends mostly on his mutant abilities and flame thrower on his back."

Scott raised his hand and began to speak after he was acknowledged by Logan. "He does not have much respect for rules or authority. He is reckless and sometimes does stupid things for his own amusement." Jean stifled a giggle at the thought of Scott being exposed in a thong in the middle of the Bayville Mall. _It was his last clean pair, he said,_ Jean thought. _I'm psychic, Scott, I know you were lying_. Oblivious to Jean's musings, Scott continued, "Oh and he has some knowledge of auto mechanics."

"Auto mechanics?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"He wired Scott's horn to his brakes," Jean explained.

"You leave the doors unlocked, Shades?"

"No, the top was down." Scott turned red and looked at his feet while he spoke.

Logan clapped his hands together. "Okay, your mission today is a simple disabling of the enemy. Scott, brake the team up and come up with a game plan." When Logan exited the danger room, a dark street alley appeared around the X-Men.

"Okay, Kurt, go out and locate each of out adversaries and report back here." Kurt nodded and bamfed up to various rooftops. A few seconds later he was back at Scott's side.

"Sabertooth is in an ally two blocks north and one east," the blue elf pointed in the various directions. "And Pyro and the Russian are in a parking lot five blocks in the other direction. I could not find Gambit."

Scott looked to be in deep thought for a minute. "Okay, here's the plan. We go after Pyro and Colossus first, then go take care of Sabertooth if he hasn't found us by then. Jean, Spike, Nightcrawler, and I will be initial attack. Shadowcat, Rogue, you two keep watch for Gambit and be ready for a second offensive." Everyone nodded and headed toward the parking lot. Jean flew, Kurt teleported himself and Scott, Evan boarded over, and Kitty and Rogue ran through the buildings.

The first four attacked Colossus and Pyro, but they were ready for them. A fire eagle chased Spike and Jean until Jean managed to form a telekinetic bubble around it and deprive it of oxygen.

Kurt was the first to get KOed. He was trying to distract and disorient Colossus but got a little too close to one of his brute arms. SMACK! Kurt flew across the street and hit a brick wall. Rogue was stationed as a lookout on that same side of the street. She took off her glove and touched his fuzzy face, then teleported to a rooftop for a better advantage point.

Meanwhile, Scott was trying to blast Pyro off a parked car, but John was quick and jumped out of the way. Colossus ran up to ram Scott in the back when Jean tossed a park bench his way. The bench didn't stop the giant, merely sent him off course far enough for Scott to notice the attacker and evade. Scott then blasted the gas tank of a car Pyro was hiding behind. The explosion threw the firebug into the windshield of another car and took him out of the fight.

"Pyro down, X-Men!" Scott announced into his communicator. "Now focus on Colossus! Shadowcat, Rogue, any sign of the others?"

"None from up here," Rogue bamfed around various rooftops.

"Like, I don't see any….wait! Toothy's coming in from the Starbucks side," Kitty reported.

"Starbucks side? Shadowcat, restate Sabertooth's coordinates," Scot commanded, a little late though, as a big hairy man picked him up from behind and threw him into the Starbucks' window on his right.

After seeing Scott go down, Rogue announced, "Ah'm comin' down."

"No!" Jean took over command for the time being. "Shadowcat, give us a hand. Rogue, we need you to keep watching for Gambit. We can't afford to be surprised again." Jean and Scott had a plan: _Rogue needs to go up against Gambit. Maybe when she chokes, she will realize what kind of danger she is putting herself and the team into._ Rogue reluctantly obeyed orders.

Spike tried to skate behind Colossus and jump him. After throwing his whole body into the metal man and having him not move an inch, Spike knew he was in trouble. Colossus turned his head and looked at Spike as if he was an annoying fly.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Piotr. How do you like America so far?" Evan nervously started a conversation. Colossus grabbed him by the front of his uniform and hurled him toward the advancing Shadowcat who phased through him. Spike hit the ground and rolled down the street a little ways. Kitty could hear Evan groan so she knew he would be back in the fight soon.

With Jean taking on Sabertooth one-on-one, that just left Kitty versus Colossus until Spike regain his senses.

"Uh, hi," Kitty half-smiled and waved at the holographic robot of Piotr. _It's not really him, its not really him_, she kept repeating to herself while the other part of her brain was trying to figure out how to decommission him. This Colossus was not as patient as the real one and started throwing signs, dumpsters, and cars her way, all which ash phased through.

Kitty looked over to Jean who was having a duel of strength: Jean's mind versus Sabertooth's brawn. Currently Sabertooth was trying to throw a car on top of Jean, who had fallen in the street, and she was holding it up with her telekinesis.

Kitty got an idea. She maneuvered herself so she was standing in front of a fire hydrant. Colossus was still throwing stuff at her. Once she was in position, Colossus tossed a car at the cat in front of the hydrant.

"You ask for a shower, Jeannie?" Kitty shouted to her teammate as she phased through the camry. Jean understood Kitty's message and stopped fighting Sabertooth's car for a second to direct the waster from the hydrant into Sabertooth's back. The force blew him and the car into the building behind Jean.

"Yeah!" Kitty rejoiced at the brilliance of her plan, momentarily forgetting about the Russian who was coming up behind her. Before she had a change to phase, Colossus backhanded her down the block. Kitty was out for the rest of the session. A second later, Colossus was shot down an alley by a broad beam of red light.

Scott ran over to where Jean had collapsed after defeating Sabertooth. "Jean, are you okay?" Scott helped her off the ground.

"Yeah, just tired," she answered. "Do you have any idea how heavy a Lincoln is?"

Spike and Kurt waltzed over to them too.

"Are we done yet?" Evan asked.

"No, Gambit is still unaccounted for," Scott reported.

"Don't look now, Cyc, but Pyro and Sabertooth have up an' adammed too," Rogue called though her communicator.

"What?!" He looked back over to the car Pyro was last seen in and the store Sabertooth splashed into. Sure enough, there were big dents and shattered glass but no villains.

"Dammit!!" Scott shouted. "Rogue, did you see where they went?"

"No, Ah noticed while Ah was tryin' ta spot Gambit."

"Please tell me you found him at least."

"Negative. Mah guess is we won't find him 'til he wants ta be found. Are ya gonna put meh in the fight now?"

_I want her to see how hard it is to have an enemy as a friend, like I did when Xavior put her in the simulation. I guess I'll just have to make sure they are pitted against each other later._ "Nightcrawler," Cyclops addressed the recently conscious X-Man. "Go scout the area again. And bring back Rogue. She probably doesn't have your power now that you're conscious."

Kurt popped back in a minute or so later with Rogue in tow. "No sign of them anywhere," Kurt reported.

The five of them opened their eyes and ears to the eerie silence.

"What now?" Evan asked Scott.

"We split -" no sooner did Scott start his response did a shower of kinetically charged cards throw the group apart. Down the street a truck started up and charged for the X-men recovering in the street.

"X-Men! Out of the street!" Scott yelled as Pyro barreled toward them in a beat up pick-up truck. Kurt grabbed Rogue's arm, and they were teleported to a nearby fire escape. Jean and Spike sprinted into a blown out storefront while Scott met the truck head on. He wanted to give this robot of Pyro a little taste of what the real Pyro gave him last night. Cyclops's hand went to his visor, and at the last possible moment, he shot out the driver's side tire. The truck abruptly turned to the left, right into the lobby of an office building. Cyclops's pride of his move was short lived: As the truck had turned, Sabertooth, who was crouched in the bed, leapt out and pounced on the fearless leader. Scott reacted by releasing a shot optic blast, only strong enough to launch Sabertooth over himself as he fell backward.

Another rain of charged cards and fire told Cyclops that the session was far from over. "Nightcrawler, Rogue get on Gambit. Jean, Spike, you're on Pyro."

Kurt and Rogue bamfed over to Gambit's position on the top of a six-story building. Robo-Gambit knew they were coming and turned his attention from the street to the two X-Men almost immediately. Kurt nimbly bounded to the left, out of the way of flying cards as Rogue did backhand springs to achieve the same effect to the right. Kurt then ported behind Gambit so he would turn his back on Rogue. Gambit pulled out his bo staff for a close range attack. Kurt kept him distracted as an ungloved Rogue sneaked up from behind. But Robo-Gambit did not forget about all of his opponents, just as the real one wouldn't. Just as she was reaching up for the knock out, Gambit pulled a fast one on Nightcrawler and sent him across the roof into the stairwell entrance.

Rogue noticed the sudden shift in his weight but before she could react, Gambit swung back his staff and tripped her. Rogue rolled onto her back and jumped up, preparing for another attack. Gambit tried again to knock her around with his bo staff, but the Goth expertly dodged it this time and eventually grabbed his weapon with her two hands. They were at a stand still for a few seconds, then Robo-Gambit cocked his head and smirked. Rogue fumed inside, _They programmed him ta flirt!! Ah'll wipe that grin right off his face!_ Unlike Kitty, Rogue had no problem disabling the fake version of the object of her affection. The infuriated X-Man was able to wrestle the staff away from Robo-Gambit. Then she jammed it into the ground and used it as a support for her to make a short circle run, leap off the ground and kick him in the neck. Gambit's head went flying across the rooftop like a wine cork as Rogue hit the weakness in the neck of the droid she knew about.

Rogue exhaled deeply and smiled triumphantly. She then looked over her shoulder at Kurt. He was slowly coming out of it but would be unable to fight for a few more minutes. Rogue heard more crashing from the street below. She looked over the edge just in time to see Scott get knocked around by a lamp post held by Sabertooth. It was just Scott and Evan against the burly cat. Evan was able to decommission Pyro by spiking his fuel tank for his flame thrower, but the sudden release of pressure not only sent Pyro flying but Jean as well.

Now Sabertooth was almost directly underneath her, squaring off against Spike and a half-conscious Cyclops for support. Rogue sprinted across the rooftop and picked up Gambit's head without a second thought. She raced back over to watch her comrades. Luckily Sabertooth had not moved far from his previous location. She raised the Cajun's head over her own and hurled it down at the overstuffed kitten. The severed head hit Sabertooth squarely on his own, and the force Rogue threw it down with coupled with six or so stories of gravity knocked the last Acolyte out.

"Simulation complete," a robotic voice announced as the streets, alleys, cars and buildings disappeared. Rogue helped Kurt to his feet and he ported them off a metal ledge to their recover teammates below.

The danger room doors swished as Logan entered with a scowl on his face. "You completed you mission, barely. That was pretty sloppy work out there. Forgetting about opponents," Logan looked at Kitty who had regained consciousness but still sitting on the floor. Kitty hung her head. "Not utilizing teammates soon enough." This time Logan glared at Scott and Jean.

He knew exactly what they were trying to pull by making sure Rogue would go up again Gambit. They were hoping she would choke just like Scott had when Rogue was the surprise entry into a battle simulation (3). But Rogue has more of a check on her emotions, she knew it wasn't reality. She was a loner who always hid her emotions from everyone else so I wasn't too much of a challenge to bury them for one exercise or to use them to her advantage.

Logan continued. "Not thinking of he physics of your opponents weapons," That one was for Evan. "But you did show good teamwork occasionally. And from what I've seen of Magneto's new team, that will be essential to their defeat. Next time you will improve and expand those instances in order to complete the mission with less injuries and casualties. Now cool down and hit the showers, then meet in the conference room at sixteen hundred hours for review of the tapes of today's session."

"Sixteen hundred?" Kitty questioned as she dragged herself to the girls' locker room.

"Four o'clock," Scott answered.

"Oh." Kitty grunted and rubbed her reddening cheek. _I'm gonna have to ice it really fast if I don't want, like, a black eye for school tomorrow_.

Rogue silently followed Kitty to the locker room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the robot's decapitated head. Rogue switched directions and picked up the head, now just a humanoid shaped chunk of metal. _Not smirking now, are ya, Cajun?_

As she passed Logan on the way to the showers, she tossed it nonchalantly over her shoulder to him. "Needs work."

Logan rolled the head around in his hands. "Stripes," he called after her, before the locker room door closed. Rogue pulled the door back open and stuck her head through. Steam was already rolling out.

"Yeah?"

"You did good today, kid," was all he said. But such a complement from the militant Wolverine was not to be taken lightly by our favorite southern belle. After she shut the door, Rogue walked away proudly.

* * *

"Give that back, Bobby Drake!!!" Rogue could hear Sam Gunthrie yell. She was chilling in her room, catching up on her reading after dinner. The yell was followed by the pounding of footsteps, then the blasting off of the new mutant Cannonball.

"Bobby!! Sam!!" now Jean was screaming at them as she was slammed into a hall closet.

"Watch it!!" Amara was heard yelling.

"Sorry Amara," Jamie called, "but I can't really help it when Sam comes at me full force."

"Robert Drake! Samuel Gunthrie!" Ororo's voice rang through the closed doors of the mansion. Apparently Bobby and Sam were the only ones who didn't hear her, because the noise did not stop. Rogue stopped reading, turned up Tears for Fears on her stereo then laid back down and put her pillow over her face.

"Geez, like, mutant wars seven is on out there," Kitty announced as she phased into their bedroom.

"Eight," came Rogue's muffled response from underneath her pillow. A flash of lightning and thunder crashing told the two that Ororo was at her limit.

"And just imagine," Kitty said as she pulled out her laptop, "you get to spend the next, like, three weeks on the front lines."

Rogue groaned deeply. "Not if Ah throw mahself off the roof."

"Oh, it won't be that bad." Kitty tried to be optimistic. "Hey, I'll even let you have veto power on the stereo as long as you only play music on the compromised list."

"Ah don't think listenin' ta Garbage an' Fuel," Rogue named the only two groups on that list, "will keep meh sane. Between the newbie's an' Jean's 'heart-ta-hearts, an' the Professor's lectures an' worried looks, ah don't think ah'll see sunrise. Ah need ta get outta this house!!"

"I'm going to the mall tomorrow, if you want I could pull a few strings and you could come," Kitty offered.

After removing the pillow from her head, Rogue sat up and looked seriously at her roommate. "Yah, so ya can drag meh around an' look at pink shoes."

"I'll take that as a no them," she said before she immersed herself in her paper.

Rogue laid back down and looked at her nightstand. Upon it was two tickets to the Kittie concert and two backstage passes. _Now that ah can't, ah want ta go ta that concert. Maybe ah can get Wanda ta go with meh. Ah know the tickets sold out before she could get any. But then ah still have ta get outta the house. Wait…_ A new idea just popped into the Goth's head.

"Kitty, whose on patrol Tuesday night? Logan, McCoy, or Ororo?" Rogue asked.

Her roommate looked up. "Logan, I think. Why?"

A smile evolved on the Goth's face. It kinda creeped Kitty out. "Ah think ah'm gonna break out," Rogue announced.

"While Logan's on?! Are you, like, insane? You won't make it past the gate!" Kitty exclaimed from experience.

"Ah have a plan," Rogue lunged for the phone. She picked it up and prepared to dial before she realized: "Damn! Ah don't know his number." She thought for a bit. There was no way this great plan of hers was getting flushed by the lack of a phone number. "Wanda might know," she said to herself. Rogue dialed the brotherhood's number. Unfortunately Pietro Maximoff answered.

"Speed demon's love shack, how may I help you?"

"Ah need ta talk ta Wanda."

"Why, Rogue-roo." Pietro recognized her voice. "No 'hi, how ya doing?' That hurts."

"Will ya put Wanda on?"

"Well, no, see there's a problem there. See, she doesn't know I'm living here again and I'd like to keep it that way. Why do you need to talk to Wanda anyway?"

"None of your business, now put her on o' have someone else do it."

"Uh, no, I don't think so. Can't have the others think I'm afraid of her when I'm supposed to be leading them."

"Leading them?!" Rogue sputtered out and started laughing. After a few minutes she was able to suppress it. "Let meh put it this way, Speedy," Rogue said. "Ya either put Wanda on the other end of this call o' ah will march over there right now an' not only tell Wanda that you're there, but let her pick what tattoo ta burn on your other cheek."

"Pietro has a tattoo on his butt?!" Kitty squealed and started laughing.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't tell anyone about that!" Pietro exclaimed.

"Ah didn't, she overheard an' she still doesn't know _what_ I had tattooed there," Rogue argued.

"Oh, tell me!" Kitty squealed again. "Please?" She smiled sweetly.

"Alright, alright!" Pietro yielded. "I'll have Freddy get Wanda." There was some shuffling, stomping and order heard in the background.

While Rogue was waiting, Kitty inquired about Pietro's body art. "Come on, Rogue, spill it."

"If ah tell ya, what will ah have ta blackmail him with?"

"Well, at least tell me why you, like, gave Pietro a tattoo on his butt," Kitty giggled.

"He 'accidentally' walked in on meh in the shower one too many times," she said, matter of factly.

"How many was that?"

"Once."

"Kinda harsh don't ya think?"

"No, effective," she stated. "He never did it again."

Wanda's irritated voice came on the line, "What?!"

"Hey Wanda, Ah wondered if ya had John's phone number?" Rogue asked.

"And why would you think I had it?" Wanda avoided the question.

"Oh, please." Rogue rolled her eyes. "Stop playin' innocent. Kurt and Evan walked in on yal makin' out in the men's bathroom at the mall."

"Fine," Wanda was so glad Rogue could not see her blush. "It's 555-1013. You need the address, look up Magnus Caesar in the phone book. That all you want?"

"Yeah, thanks Wanda," Rogue said as she scribbled down the number.

"If you mention this John thing to anyone, no one will be able to find the pieces," Wanda threatened.

"Hey, not a word from meh, but ah can't stop Kurt an' Evan from talkin'. Ah also hear that ya kicked Jean's an' Scott's asses last night. Good job."

"The pleasure was all mine." Wanda smiled wickedly.

"Ah would have liked ta see it. Ah'd better go. Thanks again." Rogue ended the call and dialed John's number.

"Hellloooo," St. John greeted.

"Hey, is John there?" Rogue asked, not certain it was him. She was glad it wasn't Remy who answered. She couldn't be distracted from her mission yet.

"This is and who might you be?" John asked.

"Rogue. Listen, ya got any evil plans takin' place Tuesday night?"

"Uh, no. You aren't asking me our, are you?" John got a little nervous. "'Cause I'm perfectly happy with the Goth I have now, not to mention Remy would kick my ass."

"Ya think _way_ too highly of yourself. Ah'm askin' 'cause ah happen ta have two backstage passes ta a concert that Wanda has been dying ta go ta."

"No way! That's great, but I have a feeling that you're not just going to give them to me."

"In exchange, ah want that picture of Sabertooth." Rogue was tasting the success of her plan.

John thought about her offer for less than a second. "Done and done. How do you want to make the exchange?"

"Come inta Vinyl Vintage tomorrow. Ah'm workin' from three ta seven," Rogue said.

"Affirmative, I will make the drop in the appropriate time window," John responded.

Rogue rolled her eyes at his antics. "Hey can ya put Remy on the phone?"

Kitty raised her eyebrows at Rogue and mouthed. "Rogue likes Remy, Rogue likes Remy…" Rogue turned her back on her roommate and concentrated on the phone.

"I'd love to but he's not here." John paused, looking at his watch. "Though if you want to get in touch with him, I might be able to help."

"How's that?"

"Look out your window." A confused look came over Rogue's face as she got up off her bed and moved toward the balcony doors. After pushing the curtains aside, Rogue almost jumped when she saw a familiar figure dressed in black and wearing a trench coat waving at her.

"He there?" John asked.

"Yeah," Rogue answered.

"Let me talk to him," John requested.

Rogue unlocked the doors and slid through, trying to close the curtains so Kitty could not see.

"It's for you," Rogue said and handed the phone to a confused Remy.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Remy, guess what?" John did not wait for a response. "Your girl called for me, not you, ha, ha, ha, ha-ha, ha."

"Shut up, John-boy," Remy hung up on his friend and handed the phone back to Rogue. She took it. There was an awkward silence for a bit, which Rogue decided to break.

"So, whatch ya doin' here, Cajun?"

"I'm here ta see you, mon chere, of course. Why else would I be here?"

"Ah don't know. Ya might be lookin' for another death wish from Wolverine."

"Ah, but he is not here. I saw him leave fifteen minutes ago. De white lady makes rounds tonight. No Remy jumblia tonight."

Rogue gave him a half smile. "Ah gues ya aren't a complete idiot after all."

"Non, just a half-wit." Remy made fun of himself/ "At least when it concerns you. Whatcha doin' tomorrow night? Dey're showin' de Rocky Horror Picture Show at de theater downtown."

Rogue looked up at the sky and turned around to lean against the railing. "Oh, ah don't know. Go to work, then take a drive to Transsexual Transylvania and dance the night away with a singin' cross-dressin' Tim Curry?" she considered sarcastically.

"No, I'll be Mike, not Dr. Frankenferter, and you can be Columbia."

Rogue raised one eyebrow. "Columbia?"

"You wanna be Dr. Frankenferter?" Remy smiled jokingly.

"No, Magenta."

"Aww, then I'd have to be de guy wit' de hump."

"Who said ya did? Ya can be Brad for all ah care."

"Brad? Don' t'ink I have de waredrobe for Brad." Remy thought for a second. "Think I can borrow tube socks, loafers and some tightie whities from your buddy Scott?"

Rogue laughed. "Don't think he could help ya in the underware department."

Remy looked down at himself then back at Rogue. "You're right, his are probably too small." Rogue laughed again even harder.

"That's not what ah meant. Didn't John tell ya?"

"Tell me what?"

"Last night John and Wanda were playing the Hanes game and apparently Scott doesn't like boxers or briefs. He prefers thongs."

Remy cocked his head and thought for a second. "Dat explains a lot, non? So are we on for tomorrow, Magenta?"

Rogue sighed. "Can't Cajun, Ah'm grounded: three weeks."

"I'm sorry chere, I didn't know 'bout the curfew," Remy sincerely apologized.

"It's not your fault. Ah was the one who lost track of time," Rogue told him.

"Does dat mean you had a good time then?" Remy leaned in closer to Rogue. Their closeness made her a little uncomfortable, but she did not back away from him. She looked into his red and black eyes and smiled and nodded.

It took all of Kitty's will power to keep herself from crying out in glee. She didn't want to give away her position on the floor with her head phased through the curtain and the balcony door. She was too absorbed in eavesdropping to hear the soft knock on her and Rogue's bedroom door.

"Rogue? Kitty?" Ororo called. Kitty eeped and jumped up from her position on the floor.

"Ororo, uh hi," Kitty said nervously.

"What were you doing on the floor, child?" Ororo asked.

"Uh, looking for my, uh, earring." Kitty got back down on all fours and inconspicuously phased her earring out of her left ear. While she was down there, she quickly stuck her head out onto the balcony to find a pissed off Rogue and Remy.

"What do ya think ya were doin', spyin' on meh?" Rogue spat angrily.

Kitty ignored her. "Hurry, hide, Storm's coming." Kitty phased back into the room and stood up to show Ororo her earring in her hand. "Found it." She giggled uneasily and put the earring back in her ear.

"Kitty, have you seen Rogue?" the weather witch asked her.

Kitty suspiciously avoided Storm's eyes. "I think she's in the library."

"No, I checked there," Ororo said. "Is there someplace else she could be?"

Kitty didn't know how to stall Ororo any longer. _I'm so totally horrible at lying_. "Uh, I think she's out on the balcony. Yeah, that's right. She came back from the library and went out onto the balcony."

"Thank you," Storm gracefully walked to the balcony doors, threw back the curtains and walked out onto the balcony where Rogue appeared to be alone, looking out at the twilight sky.

"Rogue, that was truly a delightful dinner you prepared tonight," Ororo complimented.

"Thanks, 'Ro. Glad ya enjoyed it."

"Do you think you could give me a copy of the recipe? I'd love to try my hand at it," Ororo requested.

"Sure," Rogue shrugged and kept her response to one word. More than one seems to incite more conversation.

"Thanks, Rogue." Ororo diligently left the room.

As soon as he heard the door shut, Remy groaned and climbed back up on top of the balcony.

"That was close," Rogue said. "Thanks for the warnin', Kit," she called inside.

"No prob," Kitty responded, adding in her head, _anything to make sure nothing stands in the way of love._ She giggled at the memory of Rogue and Remy out on the balcony.

Rogue turned back to Remy. "Ya should probably be leavin' now."

"You're right. But first -" Remy paused and reached into the pocket of his trench coat. He pulled out a used cube of chalk. "For you."

"Oh, thanks, how'd ya know," she said sarcastically as she took the chalk from his hand.

"I'm Santa, remember," Remy joked. "I stole dat from Louis' last night."

"Great, ah'm datin' a klepto." Rogue continued to finger the chalk.

"So we are dating." Remy smiled triumphantly.

Rogue's hand shot out and rubbed the blue dust over his nose. "Whatever, swamp rat." Remy reached for her hand but met the closing of the glass doors. He considered picking the lock and coming in but the sound of a motorcycle roaring up the driveway told him he definitely had to go. Instead Remy kissed his hand and waved goodbye to his striped haired girl and disappeared into the night.

* * *

See Chapter 3 - Cheeseburgers and Sugar Daddies

See Chapter 9 – Thank God Friday is Over

Referring to the episode "Turn of the Rogue."

A/N: Okay people, was that worth the wait? And for all of those who are requesting some regular updates, better keep wishing and bugging me. Maybe I'll try and make some time for it. I do want some feedback from yal and some information:

1) I need one more character to be in the Dazzlers. MUST BE FROM MARVEL UNIVERSE, NO ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. Don't want you guys to get mad at me for adjusting your OC's to fit my story, plus more innuendoes can be added with already established characters. Can be male or female or other, hero or villain, mutant, human, or other but must be able to be a believable trumpet/brass player. In other words, not someone like Sage who is much too analytical to swing. I want you to tell me what character and why I should write them in. This is not a vote, no democracy here. I will be picking the character, who had the best arguments.

2) I want to know more about Sinister's Marauders from the comics and Nasty Boys from the cartoon. I want to include some in my next story, but not exactly sure who they are, how many, and what exactly their powers are.

That's all I can think of right now. Next chapter is only half-written to don't expect anything to happen real soon. But I will tease you:

**Next Chapter**: Someone shoplifts from Vinyl Vintage, another is in the hospital, Lance and Kitty call it quits and, what many of you have been waiting for, the Rocky Horror Picture Show!


	13. Something Like Rex Manning Day

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_thoughts_  
~~la la singing/music~~

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Thirteen - Something Like Rex Manning Day**

A young college student dressed in jeans and a worn lifeguard tee from Salvation Army looked at his watch set in Eastern Standard Time: 2:59 pm. Sly looked up to see Rogue drag herself into Vinyl Vintage through the double doors.

"Wow, Rogue. Was high school so mind numbing today that you are showing physical symptoms or what?" the punk boy asked as he threw his schoolbag on his back.

Rogue looked at him through half-open eyes. "High school? Ya mean nap time?" By this time, Rogue had made it across the store to Sly at the check out. "No, ah broke curfew this weekend, among other things, so on top o' being grounded fo' three weeks, ah had ta get up at the butt crack o' dawn an' work out this morning."

"Ouch, physical punishment on top of sociological," Sly sympathized as he punched out and headed toward the door. "Guess you won't be going to that Kittie concert after all."

Rogue set her bag down behind the counter and smiled mischievously. "Actually Ah am."

"How'd you pull that off?" Sly asked as he pushed open the door.

"Ah have mah methods," the Goth responded.

Sly squinted at her, trying to analyze the meaning behind her words. "Blackmail or espionage?"

"A little o' both actually."

"Crafty," Sly winked and pointed his finger at her. "Well I better get to class. Bon voyage!" Sly waved to the half-conscious mutant behind the register.

Rogue lazily walked to the backroom and punched in. She apathetically took her post behind the cash register. Surveying her surroundings uncovered only one customer in the store, and he was busy at a listening station. The goth considered taking a nap but decided it would be bad work ethic. Not that Jamal would be particularly upset, but she did want him to think highly of her when she gave him her two weeks notice that night. _Back ta livin' off the Professor's horoscopes. This blows. All ah wanted was some independence. Now ah have ta give it up 'fore Jamal an' his family get hurt, 'cause he hired a mutant. Ah hate people. Well, just stupid people. Why the hell are there so many stupid people? An' how did they ever get inta positions of power? Ah know not everybody's brother is the governor of Florida_. Rogue opened the CD player and slammed in old school Nirvana. She then pulled _Farewell to Arms_ out of her book bag. She held the book closed in her hands and stared at the cover. _An' who ever decided that ya were a good author? Ah almost wish we were still readin' Steinbeck. At least the women in his novels ain't all sufferin' from severe Florence Nightingale syndrome and know words to describe somethin' other than their love an' eternal devotion ta a character ya obviously wish was you._ Rogue set Hemmingway down on the counter and again reached into her book bag. _Success_. _Girl, Interrupted_ hopped into her hands and she started to read.

At the completion of chapter eighteen, the bells upon the front entrance jingled. The man at the listening station had left several minutes prior, so Rogue knew she was getting new customers. After brushing that damn strand of white hair out of her face, Rogue looked up and her eyes met the familiar stroll of our favorite Cajun. He was in his usual get-up minus his trademark trench coat. A look of annoyance was transfixed on his face.

"What's wrong?" Rogue asked the Acolyte.

"John," Remy answered. "Dere be somethin' not quite right goin' on in dat big empty head o' his."

Rogue looked at Remy quizzically. "It took ya this long ta figure that out?"

Remy shrugged and leaned up against the counter, cocking a half-smile. "You're in a better mood today."

Springing up like someone who was sleeping in class and just poked with a stick by a teacher, Rogue responded skeptically, "What gave ya that idea?"

Remy raised his hand and pointed to the ceiling speakers as Smells like Teen Spirit played. "Dey be screamin' at me in English today."

Rogue relaxed and gave him a funny look, "You think Kurt Coban is singin' in English?" alluding to the indistinguishable human-speak coming from the stereo.

"Good point." Remy leaned his elbow on the counter, "You want to know why I think St. John is especially bizarre today?"

Rogue read the look in his face and decided that maybe she wouldn't ask questions she didn't want to know the answer to today. She would triumph over curiosity. "No."

"Too bad." Remy smiled and pointed toward the entrance. "'Cause your gonna find out anyway." Remy pointed to a suspicious looking figure making his way toward Vinyl Vintage. The stranger had on a long, ratty, tan trench coat, a matching fedora, and dark sunglasses. As he made his way toward the store he would hid behind mailboxes and then try and act inconspicuous leaning against buildings. A briefcase swung in his left hand as he entered. Rogue noticed that his sunglasses were not normal sunglasses but the ones with the fake nose and plastic mustache. The man looked around as if to make sure there were no spies in the store. He then walked determinately up to Rogue and plopped his briefcase on the counter.

The cashier did not realize whom this weirdo was until she heard him say in his natural Australian accent: "You got the merchandise?" At this question, Remy responded with unrestrained laughter. Although Remy could not keep a straight face, Rogue remained remarkably placid as she raised her eyebrow. John sighed irritably at Remy's reaction. He looked around, slightly embarrassed, then his eyes settled on Remy, and he said, "You know, I'm trying to create an atmosphere; work with me here." Remy bit his lip and somehow suppressed his laughter to his head.

Rogue shook her head as she reached into her book bag and pulled out two lariats. "Ah have the passes right here."

"You mean, 'merchandise', chere?" Remy spurted out before breaking into another fit of laughter. Rogue ignored him and nonchalantly held out the lariats for him to take.

John clicked open his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope. Reaching over the counter, he handed it to Rogue. "And here is what you wanted." They made the exchange. St. John slipped his passes into the briefcase, shut, and locked it.

The "spy" pushed up his sunglass disguise with his index finger, "It was a pleasure doing business with you." And with that, the Australian tipped his fedora, turned to leave.

Remy cleared his throat. "Aren't you forgetting something, mon ami?"

"Oh yeah," John realized as he pealed off Remy's coat and handed it to him. "Here ya go. Thanks a bunch." John exited the building still in his fedora and sunglass combo.

Remy looked down and shook his head. "I don' know what I'm gonna do wit' dat homme."

"Release him back inta the wild?" Rogue suggested.

The bells over the door jangled again, suspending their conversation. Five young whipper snappers entered, a group of three and two singlets. Rogue left Remy at the counter to play with the buttons while she played good salesgirl. The group of three and one of the singlets did not wish to be helped. The other singlet, a high school freshman with long blonde hair and no makeup, had never been to Vinyl Vintage, so Rogue gave the young hippie girl a free two-cent tour. While Rogue was racking her brain, trying to come up with some good folk groups to recommend, a young dark haired man dressed in a black turtleneck and jeans waltzed in.

"Hey Lucas," Rogue greeted her coworker.

He stopped and gave a short wave, "The new schedule up in the back?"

"Yah," Rogue nodded. Lucas did a 360 scrutinizing each of the customers in the store, stopping for a split second at the other single shopper in the ball cap, baggie jeans, and powder blue jacket. He then disappeared into the backroom.

"Dammit!" everyone looked up when they heard the exploitative come from the backroom. Rogue took a second to set the hippie girl up at a listening station, then asked Lucas after he emerged, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just have to open Saturday, and I wanted to go to Atlantic City with a friend of mine whose coming to visit," a disappointed Lucas said.

Rogue thought for a minute: _Spend all Saturday grounded at the mansion or get in a few extra hours before your two weeks notice will be up_. "If ya want, ah can work your shift," she offered.

"Really? That would be excellent! Thanks a million, I could kiss you," Lucas declared. Remy's eyes shot to Rogue to see her reaction to Lucas' offer.

"Ah wouldn't, unless ya wanna be in a coma for the rest o' the night," she said as if she wasn't hurting inside anytime anyone mentioned touching.

Lucas looked confused for several minutes, then the light bulb went off. "Oh, yah, mutant powers. Are you the mutant working here with the devilishly handsome, thieving, boyfriend?"

"Ah don't have a boyfriend," Rogue said, ignoring Remy's fake coughing. "Where did ya hear that?" Lucas didn't respond right away as he was watching the baseball cap kid again. This opened a spot for Remy to comment.

"And what am I, chere?" he interjected after realizing that his coughing tactic wasn't working. "I think I fall quite nicely into the devilishly handsome thief category."

"Yes, Remy, ya are a thief. It's the boyfriend part ah have a problem with."

Remy smiled and made a grab for her hand. "So you do d'ink I'm devilishly handsome." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Rogue wretched her hand from his grasp. "Only in your own mind."

"And Ashley's," Lucas cut in, turning away from the customer. "I worked with her on Sunday. All she talked about was you, I guess." Lucas nodded in the thief's direction. "Stealing her shoelaces." Rogue gave Remy a strange look. He responded with a shrug and handed her a neon pink shoelace. Rogue promptly threw it behind the counter with disgust, _Pink, eww_. Rogue shuddered and Lucas continued, "And Sly's new girlfriend."

"Sly's got a new girlfriend?"

"Yeah, he went out with some strange girl who came into the store Saturday night. Ania, I think. I'm not entirely sure, Ashley only mentioned her name once, and from then on she referred to her as the 'Canadian slut who thinks she can steal my punk boy toy.'"

"That girl needs some professional help," Rogue said about Ashley.

"Or a swift kick in the derrière," Lucas suggested as he continued to look at the customer in the ball cap.

"Wait…she isn't working on Saturday, is she?" Rogue asked her coworker suspiciously.

Lucas tuned back in. "No, hell no. I would not submit you to such torture. Jamal and Sly are on the schedule."

"Good."

Just then the phone behind the counter rang, Rogue reluctantly left the company of her devilishly handsome boyfriend and her equally adorable coworker to answer it.

The phone was picked up on the third ring, "Hello, Vinyl Vinage. This is The Rogue speaking, how can ah help ya?"

There was silence for a few moments. Rogue started to hang up the phone when she hear a raspy voice say something.

"Sorry, ah didn' catch that. What did ya say?"

"Freaks like you should be put on display," the voice repeated.

"'cuse me?" Rogue could not believe what she was hearing.

"You should all be locked up and kept out of sight of normal people," the voice went on.

Rogue grew irate at the voice's implications. "Sorry, sugah, you're a bit late comin' up with that idea, 'cause ah'm already locked up fo' seven o' so hours of the day. It's called high school. But by the way you're talkin' ah doubt your familiar with it." And with that Rogue slammed down the receiver.

While Rogue was on the phone, Lucas turned to Remy. "Normally I like to handle these situations myself," he nodded toward the kid in the ballcap and powered blue jacket behind him. "Love the chase. But I have to jet, so I'm going to leave it to you and the Rogue to take care of." And with that, Lucas turned and exited.

Remy was not at all surprised that the salesman had noticed the shoddy thieving going on. _De kid dresses suspiciously, acts suspiciously, an' frickin' stumbled the last time he slipped a CD inta his pocked. De kid's got no skill, no talent, an' no style._ Rogue came back over to Remy.

"What ya starin' at?" Rogue followed his glaze to Powder Blue. Just then the kid looked from left to right and slipped another CD into the bulky pockets. "Looks like ah've gotta chase scene comin' up," Rogue announced.

Remy put his hand to his chest. "Non, let me. Someone who actually works here should stay here. 'Sides, dis kid gives thieves everywhere a bad image."

Rogue shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Remy cracked his neck and started stretching. He didn't stop despite the eye rolling going on behind the counter. He walked up to the ballcap kid as the kid picked up another CD. "Nice selection.(1)"

The kid looked up from under the ballcap at the Cajun towering over him, "What?"

"Help you wit' anything?" Remy asked the kid.

"Dude, do you even work here?"

Remy backed off a bit, paused for dramatic effect, then shook his head. "Non, not really."

The powder blue jacket's eyes rolled and he put the CD back on the rack.

Remy was thoroughly enjoying freaking the kid out. He could see sweat building up underneath the ballcap. "Sure I can't help you wit' anything?"

The kid chuckled a little at the weirdo in the sunglasses. "No. I'm alright, thanks." To his dismay, this dismissal did not have the effect the kid was hoping for. Remy continued to hover around.

"You like music?" the Cajun asked.

"Uh, yeah." The ball cap kid started to walk away but with one swift step Remy was on the other side of him blocking his escape route.

"Me too," Remy said. Then he whispered, "De fat man walks alone," into the kid's ear.

"What?! Stop. What are you, some kind of weirdo?!" the kid exclaimed.

"You d'ink I'm weird?" Remy put his had to his chest. "You should meet my roommates." Remy changed the subject. "Dat's a big coat you're wearing, lots of pocket-room."

"Yeah, so does yours." The kid got in Remy's face. They stared each other down for a bit. Eventually the kid broke and looked away. "Yeah, see ya." The kid waved on the way out.

"I'm sure I'll bump into you," the prince of thieves called after him.

The door bells jingled and one of the group of three customers, who had all been watching the show, sipped his slurpie noisily before yelling out, "SHOPLIFTER!!!!"

As if a gun had gone off, Remy sprinted out of the store after powder blue. Rogue and the three customers watched at Remy chased the shoplifter around the corner. They went out of sight for awhile, but reappeared shortly, surprisingly back in the store.

"Hey," the kid with the slurpie said, "isn't it customary to leave the scene after committing the crime?"

"Definitely an amateur," his friend commented.

Remy and the shoplifter continued to chase each other around the store, jumping over displays and records. Considering the small size of the shop, they quickly ran out of placed to go. The kid somehow made it to the door and took off to the streets. Through the recently cleaned full size front windows, the audience was able to see leaping over fire hydrants and weaving in and out of people and parking meters. Remy got out his bo staff and used it to catapult himself over the crowd and the kid to block the escape. The shoplifter was able to skid to a stop before colliding with the Cajun. Instead of admitting he was caught, the kid shot across the street. After narrowly missing some opportunities to become road kill, the kid in the ball cap tried again to lose Remy but watching where he was going. He ran right into the front of a parked car. Everyone in the store flinched and groaned. But running into a parked car didn't stop the kid, he rolled right over the top. After coming out on the other side of the car, the shoplifter tried to run around it, keeping the car between himself and Remy but only succeeded in running into an open car door, falling backward, and hitting his head on the pavement.

The kid was still dazed as Remy dragged him by the collar of his jacket into the store. He stopped just short of Rogue, who had just gotten off the phone with the cops. Remy snatched the shoplifter's hat off and thick shoulder length jet black hair fell into the shoplifter's face. The girl in the powder blue jacket glared at Remy and tried to snatch her hat back, but being a foot taller than she was, he easily kept it out of her reach.

"So, what's your name, kid?" Rogue asked shoplifter as she got out the Polaroid camera out from underneath the counter.

"Warren Beatty," came her smart-mouth remark.

Rogue raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Warren Beatty? Your parents big fans?"

"Yeah, right." The kid looked around for an escape.

"Your parents have bad taste," Remy insulted as he tightened his grip on her collar. "Hey, Rogue, de tag in her shirt says Laura."

The girl in the jacket grew nervous. "I, uh, stole the shirt."

"Recalling your shoplifting abilities, I doubt it," Remy said as he pulled out a handful of CDs from her pocket and handed them to Rogue.

"'kay, Warren, stand up. Ah want ya ta hold these against your chest, stand against the wall, so ah can take a picture of ya," Rogue instructed.

Laura "Warren Beatty" didn't like that idea. "Why don't you shove 'em up your ass?"

"Cause, that would hurt a lot, Warren." Rogue did not let the pip-squeak get to her. When Laura "Warren Beatty" still

didn't move, Remy assisted her to the wall.

"Smile, Warren. Not you, Remy. Ah think there are probably enough pictures of ya caught shopliftin'."

"Nope, notta one. No one has ever caught de prince o' thieves." Remy continued to show his debonair smile.

"Just get your cocky, bayou ass outta the picture." Remy backed up a few steps and Rogue snapped a few pictures of the annoyed teen. "Thanks Warren. Your ride will be here soon ta pick ya up."

Remy took the girl back over to the counter. "Meanwhile, you need to learn a few d'ings. First, let's look at what you took: rap, metal, rap, metal, metal, Whitney Housten?"

The girl's face turned read but she tried to cover it up. "It's for my mom, okay."

"Sure it is," the professional thief said. "You know, someone like you needs to diminish their criminal impulses, not magnify them. Maybe some Jazz or some Classical."

Rogue snorted. "Like ya should talk, swamp rat."

"Hey, I'm just tried to help de kid out. She obviously has no talent for de thievin'; I'm just tryin' to spare her some embarrassment." Remy brought his hand to his chest. "Now, moi, is a professional, wit' style and talent. Plus, I can control myself."

Rogue crossed her arms over her chest. "Ashley's pink shoelace ring any bells?"

"Now if I couldn't control myself both of her shoes would be gone, along wit' her purse, but I stopped at one shoelace," the thief defended himself. "Now where was I? Yes, Warren, Jazz is quite an impressive music genera -" The phone rang, and the lesson ended, because two police officers waltzed into the store.

"Hello, Vinyl Vintage, this is Rogue…" While the cops cuffed "Warren," Remy watched his girl's face grow cold and angry in response to the caller. "…No, ah'm sorry, ya must have meh confused with somebody else, 'cause ah had mah flu shot." SLAM, the receiver almost shattered the cradle.

"What's wrong, chere?" Remy's face was full of genuine concern.

"Apparently, Ah am a plague on humanity," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Remy reached for her hand and kissed it. "If you are a plague on humanity den I wish everyone were infected 'cause dere be a lot more pretty faces for me to look at."

As they dragged Warren away she called: "This is bullshit, man. She's a mutant freak and he's a professional thief and I'm the one that goes to jail!"

"That's enough," the policeman said, irritated.

"Take care of yourself, Warren. Don't de man get you down." Remy waved goodbye to the inexperienced shoplifter.

"Ah don' wanna see ya back in the store, Warren," Rogue added.

"I'm the victim here!" She tried to throw her body back into the store.

Rogue just gave her funny look, and Remy called, "Bye, Warren."

"I'm gonna get you! I'm not playing this time. I'll be back and you'll be sorry! You're gonna pay for this!" The two policemen struggled to get the writhing teenage girl in the powder blue jacket into the car. In a few moments they were gone.

"What was her problem?"

* * *

*DING DOOONNNNGGGGK* The door bell at the Brotherhood Boarding House tried desperately to ring. Although pitiful, it succeeded in its task as it alerted the residents of a visitor.

Lance, the unofficial door opener of the house (A/N: Anyone else notice that he practically always opens the door?), was met with a strange man dressed in dark slacks, a white work shirt and tie, and to top it all off, a fedora on his head. Normally Lance would have assumed he was a Jehovah's Witness and slammed the door in his face, but the visitor was also wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. Dark sunglasses with a fake plastic nose and mustache attached. Lance did not remember that being a part of the Jehovah's Witness uniform.

"Can I help you?" Lance asked skeptically, figuring this guy was tripping on something and lost.

"Hello, is Wanda home?" came the Australian's reply.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"I want to see her, o' bright one," St. John clarified.

Lance looked him up and down, then shrugged. "Sorry, just didn't realize she was making appointments for pity beatings." Before John could retort, Lance was stomping up the stairs calling for Wanda.

John took the liberty of stepping into the entryway to take a look around. "What a dump," he concluded.

"Yo, maybe if Magneto didn't spend all his money on flamboyant costumes for his pets, he could fix this place up a bit." Todd hopped into the foyer.

"Cane Toad," John greeted dryly. "What a pleasure seeing you again. Too bad it isn't a pleasure smelling you."

"What are you doing here, Croc Hunter?" Todd's eyes narrowed.

John turned red in anger at the insult then took a deep breath. "One, two, three,…okay I'm better now." John looked back at Todd. "Came here to see the lovely Wanda. We have a date. Seems Frog Prince got a little strong for her," John pinched his nose with one hand and waved the other to circulate the air.

Todd remained motionless, too infuriated to act. So John continued. "You know what makes a Cane Toad smell better. Just a little fire." John flicked open his lighter in the blink of an eye.

John looked up just in time to see a dirty, angry mutant leap at his face. Luckily, the past few days of avoiding Sabertooth had quickened his reaction time. The Aussie grabbed the doorknob and took a step back. *SMACK* Todd was splattered against the back of the door.

"My god," Wanda groaned as she saw St. John in his spy glasses and fedora at the foot of the stairs. "You just had to go back and buy them."

"Buy what? Come on, time's a wasting." John turned to have Wanda follow him out the door. Instead Wanda crossed her arms and stood with her feet firmly planted.

A few steps out the door John noticed he was alone. "What's the deal? Thought we were going out today."

"Don't expect to have my company with you walking around in those." Wanda pointed to his secret spy glasses.

John did not feel like giving up so easily today. "What you don't want to be seen with me? Don't wanna be given strange looks by passersby? I thought you didn't care what other people thought of you." John tried to argue. Wanda stayed firm. The fireboy just shrugged. "Fine, you wanna stay in this dump and make-up with your frog prince, it's your choice." John turned and started to walk toward the Acolyte's vehicle. Wanda shifted her wait and looked from John's retreating figure to the half-conscious Todd behind the door, to Freddy hoarding down on the new shipment of groceries in front of the TV, then back to John.

Lance then came down the stairs and pushed past the debating Wanda. "Catch ya later, got a date with Kitty."

_Great, Lance is leaving which would stick me with dumb and dumber for the rest of the afternoon. _Wanda sighed and walked out of the Brotherhood Boarding house and stood in front of John's vehicle. John looked up from the deliberately long process of buckling his seat belt. Wanda looked him straight in the ridiculous sunglasses. "I hate you." She then walked around to the passenger side and hopped in.

* * *

The gentle purr of the Jeep engine was cut, and the driver put the car into park but made no movement to exit the vehicle.

"Okay, Kitty, what's wrong?" Lance asked at the normally talkative freshman that just sat in the passenger seat looking at her hands in her lap. "I know something's wrong, you've barely said three words since I picked you up."

Kitty sighed at looked out the window. _How can I do this? Maybe I should just wait and tell him tomorrow, or call him, or write him a letter. _She finally gathered up the courage to look at her first boyfriend. _No, I owe him more than that_.

"Lance," she started and paused. She didn't continue right away.

"Yes," Lance said to fill the silence.

"Are you, like, happy with our relationship as it is?" she sincerely asked.

Lance groaned inwardly and slumped in his seat at the realization that he was getting "the talk." "What do you mean, Kitty?"

"I mean, do you feel that our relationship is in a lull or anything?"

"You think our relationship is in a lull?" Lance asked in a slightly hurt voice.

"No, I mean, yes," Kitty meekly answered.

"Is this about Friday night?"

"A little, yeah," Kitty confessed.

"I'm sorry Kitty, I just don't get into stuff like that."

"But I do!" Kitty protested. "I like the theater and ballets and stuff." Kitty paused to gather her thoughts and her courage. "I think we should take a break from each other for a while."

"WHAT?!" Lance exclaimed. "All because I didn't like some stupid musical that you dragged me to without telling me what it was?"

"No, that's not all Lance," Kitty's confidence grew. "We're young and I just want to get to know me and what I want in a relationship before we get all serious. I want to know that if what we have is what I want."

Her now ex scrutinized her. "Is there someone else?" He turned so he could look straight into her baby blue eyes.

Kitty squirmed a little but wouldn't look away. She saw the concern and hurt behind his glaze. "Not in the way that you are thinking."

Lance sat back straight in his seat and looked straight out the windshield. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, and Kitty could hear the deep breaths he was taking.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Kitty called his name: "Lance…?"

"Get out, Kitty," he said just above a whisper.

"Lance…" Kitty wanted to say something to make everything right again but couldn't without going back on everything she just said and felt inside. Her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Get out of the car, Kitty," Lance repeated, a little louder this time.

Kitty took heed and gathered up her purse and opened the door. She walked all the way to the sidewalk with her head high, but then couldn't take the weight of her own tears. She turned around and watched the Jeep pull away and disappear around the side of the mall. Her eyes fell to the concrete, her mind replaying everything over and over. After a minute she breathed again, sighed and concentrated on what to do now. She decided that she would take the time and walk home, to let her head clear. Granted it would take her forever, but she did have a lot on her mind.

Kitty did not get out of mall's parking lot before a familiar Jeep pulled up along side her again. The passenger side window rolled down, and Kitty saw her Ex in the driver's seat.

"Sorry, just let me drive you home, at least," he apologized.

Kitty saw his eyes were a little red and his voice a little horse. She nodded and hopped in. They drove in silence back to the Institute.

* * *

On the other side of town, in another vehicle, a little more talking was going on.

"I got a surprise for you," a non-spy glasses wearing John (apparently the mustache was giving his lip a rash) told Wanda excitedly. She smiled at the fact that John couldn't keep still in his seat. He was obviously very proud of his surprise.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Open the briefcase," John nodded toward the back seat. Wanda turned around and saw the old brown leather suitcase. She grabbed it and set it in her lap. After hexing the combination, the lid popped up to reveal two backstage passes to tomorrow night's Kittie concert.

"No way!" the witch exclaimed. "Where did you get these?!"

"I have my connections," he tried to be mysterious.

"Rogue, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I can't believe this!" John smiled at Wanda's excitement. "I wanted to see this show for so long, but now I can't."

John broke hard. "What do you mean, you can't?!"

Wanda sighed, and put the passes back into briefcase and locked it. "Got a lead on the Etch-a-Sketch thing. There's a plane that leaves tomorrow afternoon that I was going to stowaway on."

"But, but you gotta come!" John protested. "You can get revenge on Magneto any day but how often does your boyfriend get you backstage passes to a sold out Kittie concert?!"

"So you consider yourself my boyfriend now?" Wanda changed the subject.

"I think I've earned it."

Wanda just smiled and shook her head. "I'll think about it."

"Fine. How about tonight?" John asked. "You have any revenge schemes going on tonight?"

"Nope, tonight is revenge free."

"Great, the Rocky Horror Picture Show is playing downtown tonight, wanna go?"

Wanda shrugged. "Sure, why not. What is it about anyway?"

For the second time that day, John slammed on the brakes.

"Geez, John-boy, I think one brake test is enough," Wanda told him.

John was flabbergasted at Wanda's unfamiliarity with the Rocky Horror Picture Show. "You've never heard of the Rocky Horror Picture Show?! It's only one of the best participation movies ever!"

Wanda's blank expression prompted John to expand. "The movie itself is frickin' hilarious with Tim Curry as a singing, cross-dressing alien from Transsexual Transylvania, but the best part is that the audience is actually encouraged to yell things at the screen and throw stuff. It's great! I can't believe you've never heard of it."

Wanda responded sarcastically. "Oh, yeah, the Rocky Horror Picture Show. They showed that every Friday at the Insane Asylum. Something about singing and dancing cross-dressing aliens had a calming effect on the patients."

John looked at his shoes sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." Then he got an idea, more of a mission than an idea.

"You've missed out on the past six years of sub-pop culture! Don't worry, young grasshopper, I will catch you up."

Wanda looked up and said to no one in particular. "What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

The phone rang for the third time that day. "Ah swear, if it's another one of those mutant hatin' crank callers, he's gonna be shittin' his phone out of his ass." Rogue angrily picked up the phone. "Hello, Vinyl Vintage."

"I gotta remember not to get on dis fille's bad side," Remy said to himself as he picked up Rogue's book off the counter and started to flip through it, losing the Goth's spot.

A gloved hand slapped the gambler's as she listened to the ducebag on the other end: "You know, mutants aren't that bad… after they are dead."

"Yeah, well Ah plan on livin' forever, so far so good," was her torte response.

"Don't be so cocky little missy! Forever may come sooner than you think!" The phones on either end were simultaneously slammed down on the cradle.

The phone rang again, almost immediately after Rogue hung up. She assumed it was the crank caller again and tried to beat him to the punch. "Look ya wart-hogged faced buffoon (2) -" Rogue didn't get any farther before the caller interrupted her.

"Excuse me?!" Brooke Collins, Jamal's wife, exclaimed into phone. "Ya betta not be answerin' our business phone like that!"

"Mrs. Collins, Ah'm sorry," Rogue stammered. "Ah've had this crank caller botherin' meh all day an' ah just hung up on him so ah thought he was you -"

"Yah, know, never mind. I don' wanna hear it," Mrs. Collins said in a stressed out voice. "I better not catch you doin' it again. We're tryin' to run a business here."

"Sorry," Rogue said sincerely one more time.

"I just called to ask you favor," she started. "I wondered if you would be available to close tonight at ten, if I got Sly in to help."

"Ah'd have ta make a couple calls, but yeah. Why? What happened ta Jamal?" the employee asked, sensing something urgent in Mrs. Collins' voice.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "He's in the hospital. He was attacked by a gang of mutant haters today. He'll be all right, just not up to working for the rest of the week. Ashley's taking most of his shifts, but she's got class tonight."

"Ah'm so sorry, Mrs. Collins. This is all mah fault. Don' worry, it won' happen again 'cause, well, Ah was gonna tell Jamal tonight, but Ah'm quitting," the Goth confessed.

"Like hell you are!!" Mrs. Collins yelled. Rogue was taken aback. "I spent the last few weeks arguing night after night with Jamal about hiring you and he remained firm that he was taking a first step in equal rights for mutants and that it was the right thing to do no matter how much I argued that he was putting his family in danger. And after today, I was ready to insist on him firing you. Then here in the hospital I saw this mother in here with her sick baby in the emergency room. Her kid was coughing up a storm, and as a nurse I knew that the kid was much more urgent than all of the other cases I saw go in, but because the mother was obviously a mutant, her baby was not seen. I mentioned something to staff, but they still hesitated. I don't know how long they were there, since they were there long before I was, but they were never seen and the child died in her arms in the waiting room.

"I realized that Jamal was right all along, and if we stop standin' up for what's right, then more babes are gonna die, and I won't stand for it. So you're quittin' over my dead body. I will not have my family's suffering be for nothing," Mrs. Collins concluded.

"Ya can' stop meh from quittin'," Rogue responded.

"Fine, if your equality means that little to you, then go ahead and quit." Rogue remained silent. Mrs. Collins continued, "Good, you're closing at ten and Sly will come in around then to help. Is there anything else you need?"

Rogue was silent again, but this time it wasn't because she did not have an answer. "Warren Beatty" was marching back into the store.

Rogue put her hand over the receiver and called to Laura, "Warren, get out of the store."

Warren's hand went into her jacket pocket, "You can't tell me what to do, freak." She pulls her hand out and in it is a small handgun.

"What are you doing with a gun?" Remy asked.

"What do you think I'm doing with a gun?" Warren wondered at the stupidity of the question.

"Who has a gun? What's going on?" the concerned owners wife asked Rogue over the phone.

"This crazy kid who got caught shopliftin' earlier just came back with a gun," the employee summed up the scenario.

Warren was rambling when she tripped on her baggy jeans and fell to the floor, causing the gun to go off. Luckily it was aimed upward and only made crumbs of a ceiling tile.

"What the hell was that?" Mrs. Collins yelled into the phone.

"Christ. Holy shit, man," Warren exclaimed as she jumped up, unfortunately before Remy could jump her. "Stay back," she pointed her gun at the Cajun.

Rogue gave Mrs. Collins an update. "It's Warren, she's shooting up the place. She's almost as good as Wanda in wreaking the place."

"I do not appreciate your sarcasm, young lady," Mrs. Collins replied.

"Yeah, your right, Wanda does a much better job."

"I'm crazy and I got a gun. Rogue. Hey, skunkhead." Rogue tuned back into Warren's ramblings. "Did you see that, man? Did you see that? Wasn't that brilliant? Yeah! Didn't you just love that? You told me not to come back, well here I am."

Rogue raised her eyebrow. "Brilliant? No, ya need a much more extravagant entrance than trippin' over your own feet ta impress me, Warren. Ah'll tell ya what would really impress meh. Ya give meh the gun."

"I'll give you the gun." Warren shots the gun again and shatters another ceiling tile.

Remy decided it was time to end this escapade and started to walk straight toward Warren.

"Remy, what are you doing?"

"I want to have a little chat with Warren." Remy stopped and stood arms length away from the vandal.

"Yeah? Have a little chat with my gun." She pointed the gun right between his eyes. Remy wasn't phased; in fact, he smiled and winked.

"What do you want, Warren?" he said, more to the gun barrel than to her.

"Stop calling me Warren. My name isn't frickin' Warren!" Her eyes burned with angry and fear and longing.

"Okay, Ms. Beatty," Laura "Warren Beatty" gritted her teeth at Remy's address. "You should put dat gun away now 'cause, well, you can't kill me Warren 'cause I'm de devil." Remy pulled off his sunglasses to reveal his glowing red and black eyes.

Warren didn't even flinch. "You're no devil, you're just a mutant freak, like her." Warren nodded in Rogue's direction.

"Damn," Remy exclaimed and rubbed his eyes and looked back at Warren. She just gave him a funny look. Remy looked over to Rogue. "My eyes are still red and glowy, right, chere?"

"Yeah, Remy."

"But de eyes always work! Dey are scary and unnatural." Remy turned back to Warren, "Why aren't you scared of my eyes?"

"No, I take it back. You're not a freak, you're a psycho. You are psycho. What the hell is wrong with you people? You all belong in the loony bin. Everyone of ya. Forget you guys, I don't need you. You think you're so good and damn great 'cause you work in a freaking record store. Well, you do," she said indicating Rogue. Warren turned to Remy. "You just seem to live here."

Rogue then heard Mrs. Collins say something. "What was that, Mrs. Collins?"

"I said 'Offer her a job,'" she repeated.

"What?!"

"Offer her a job," she repeated for a third time. "I saw it in a movie once," she added.

"Hey Warren, do ya wanna be a psycho too an' work in a record store?" Rogue called to her.

"No," came an unsure response.

"Ah think you're lyin', Warren," Rogue pushed.

"Why would anyone offer me a job?"

"Don' ask meh, ask the boss lady on the phone." Rogue held out the receiver for Warren to take.

Warren tossed the gun to Remy, who promptly charged it and threw it up into the air, then grabbed the phone from Rogue. "Hello…Laura…'cause that's what I told them it was…Really?!…Oh, yeah, sure…yeah, no problem… okay… okay… tomorrow training with Ashley… All right… Thanks, bye."

Laura turned and smiled at Rogue and Remy by her side, "I gotta job." Warren then just turned and went to exit as if nothing had happened.

"Dat was… strange," Remy mused.

"Yeah," Rogue agreed. "But ya know the strangest thing is that ah have this weird urge ta call out, 'It's Rex Manning day.'"

* * *

Later that night, another very strange scene befell the eyes of those at Vinyl Vintage. One strawberry blonde Australian in fishnets, pumps, lingerie, and a white lab coat burst through the doors with a small duffel bag in his hands. The Scarlet Witch in her usual getup followed in behind him at a safe distance.

St. John tossed the bag to Remy. "Hurry up and get ready, Rems. We're late." Remy started to protest but John shoed him into the unisex bathroom. The firebug then took out his lighter and warmed up the metal doorknob so Remy couldn't touch it without burning himself. "You're not coming out 'til you're dolled up in fishnets."

"I'll just charge up de door and den you can spend the rest of the night pulling splinters outta your ass," Remy threatened. The door then glowed and pulsed.

"Ya are not, Rembrandt Etienne LeBeau! Uncharge that door right now!" Rogue ordered. The golden glow of the door dissipated and grumbling could be heard inside.

"He's trained well," Wanda remarked.

Rogue whistled. "Nice legs, John."

"Why, thank you, Sheila," John straightened the collar on his coat and posed. Wanda just buried her head in her hand and groaned.

"Why aren' ya dressed up, Wanda?" Rogue asked.

"It's against my religion," she retorted.

"No, the young grasshopper here is a virgin when it comes to the Rocky Horror Picture Show," John explained.

"Ah'm surprised John didn't draw a big red V with lipstick on your forehead," she addressed the witch.

"He tried," Wanda's eyes narrowed. "That's why we're late."

The Goth decided that this time she would prevail and not ask questions or receive answers to questions she didn't want to know. Remy's emergence from the bathroom aided her success.

"No applause please, I know I look good in everything, even woman's clothes." Remy waltzed out perfectly in his spiked boots.

"Ya're awfully good at walking in those boots," Rogue teased. "Is there something ya ain't tellin' us?"

"Yes, I sometimes steal John's clothes and sub for him on the corner," Remy joked.

"Come on, come on." John started tapping his toe "Perform some sort of public affection so we can get outta here. We're gonna miss the giant lips."

As Rogue was busy being insulted by John's remark, Remy grabbed her gloved hand, kissed it, then winked as he left. "'til we meet again."

Rogue shook her head. "Just get outta here ya swamp rat."

* * *

"You were the one who was so worried about bein' late, yet you're lagging behind," Wanda managed to called back to John as they sprinted five blocks from their parking spot to the theater.

"Hey, I can't help it if I'm not as experienced pump wearer as Remy," John gasped back.

Meanwhile, a young couple walked around the corner. They had just gotten subs and drinks from subway and were going to eat them in the park under the moonlight.

"We have a few more hours 'til we have to pick Rogue up at ten, so what else do you want to do?" Jean Grey asked her boyfriend Scott Summers.

Scott didn't get a chance to answer before being overrun by a cross-dressing Cajun, a witch with an attitude problem, and a crazy Australian. Soda pop spilt all over, but due to Wanda, it all landed on the red-head and red-eyed couple.

"Bloody Hell!!" St. John exclaimed into Jean's ear. "I broke the heel on my shoe!"

"Come on, John-boy," Remy helped up the stocking foot John and they continued to run to the theater, John with his shoes in his hands.

Scott sat up. "Was that who I think it was?"

"Yes!" Jean screamed. "And they got my hair all sticky!" Jean picked up a mass of her matted red hair.

"They're not going to get away with it this time," Scott stood up and helped Jean to her feet. They took off after the three RHPS attendees.

* * *

"Yes, we made it," John said as he bent over to get a better breath.

"Don't look now, but we might have to run around the block again," Wanda said and nodded toward the direction where they had just come from.

John and Remy both looked over their shoulders. There were two people racing down the street. They were the couple they had run into a few minutes before. Long since they had abandoned their dream of a moonlit picnic as they were now covered in dirt and soda. They looked pissed and determined.

"No, if we just get into the theatre, we'll be okay," John predicted. "Come on, come on," he pushed their way to the front of the line, threw a twenty on the counter and ran into the darkening theatre.

Scott and Jean tried to run into the theater after them, but were hindered by a large man with greased hair, a leather jacket, and a large gash in his forehead. "Hey, you two didn't pay!" The bouncer took them by the shoulder and lead them to the back of the line.

"What is this a line for anyway?" Scott asked Jean.

"I don't know," Jean answered, although she didn't notice the mischievous grins on the people ahead of them. "But those three will pay for making my hair all sticky."

Scott paid for their ticket and he read the stub. "Rocky Horr -" Scott was interrupted when the people that were ahead of them in line ambushed them both. Large red V's were marked on their foreheads, among other things and they were stripped down to their undergarments (Scott was not wearing thongs today, much to everyone's relief). The two were carried to the front of the theatre and put in two cages temporarily set up in the front of the theater.

"Hey, what's the deal?!" was the only appropriate thing they shouted at their captors.

A woman with a top hat and a gold sequenced top time stepped on stage with a microphone. "Welcome everyone to the Green-light District's presentation of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the movie! Someday we hope to get enough money to put on a real live action performance, but until then enjoy this. The only rules here are: do not get on the stage and no buttered bread. Thank you and enjoy the show." She started to descend from the stage, and then remembered one thing: "Oh, and a special thanks to the volunteers of Janet and Brad up here in the cages. You can pick up your clothes at the box office after the show." She smiled evilly and exited.

"We didn't volunteer!!" they screamed onto deaf ears and the curtain dropped.

* * *

At ten thirty Rogue had just finished sweeping the store and Sly counting the till.

"Hey Sly, is there anything else that needs ta be done?" Rogue asked the punk.

"Just take out the trash out back and make sure the back door's locked," he answered. "I got the rest covered, so you can just go ahead and punch out."

"Thanks, Ah'll see ya tomorrow," she said as she disappeared into the backroom. Rogue found the trash easily and headed out the back door to the alley, locking the door behind her. The dumpster was only twenty feet from the door, then Rogue planned to sit out in front of the store and wait for Jean and Scott to show up. Actually she was surprised they weren't there yet.

Something then happened to change her plans. Waiting for her at the dumpster were five large men, covered head to toe in black clothing, even their faces were covered.

"That her?" one of them asked as Rogue came out.

"Yeah, that's the freak that thinks she can work in the human world," another confirmed.

Rogue finally looked up and saw them. Despite their size, she refused to show any fear, "What? This dumpster some new water cooler for cat burglars?"

The one with a wooden bat hit his open hand menacingly. "No girl, we're here to teach you muties a lesson."

"Damn, an' Ah hate school," she retorted.

The men decided that there was enough talk and one charged her. She easily dodged him and he ran past her into the green dumpster. The second man threw a punch; she ducked and tried to run to his left. _Can't be caught in a corner with this dumpster behind me_. The man with the bat would have none of that and the ash made contact with her stomach. Rogue fell against the brick ally wall, gasping for air.

The man towered over her, threateningly. "Still feel confident about yourself, girly? Can't really fight back if you can't touch us, can you?"

That was it. Anger burned through her. _The Rogue is not a damsel in distress! _Rogue got in a crouched position with the bat man at her right side. She still held her stomach and panted. _Just a little closer,_ she thought. As if the man heard her, he took another step and raised his bat again. Rogue straightened her left leg as her right leg shot out and made contact, first with his torso, then with his chin. Ignoring the pain in her chest, she jumped on the bat man's doubled over back and scissor-kicked the brute behind him across his face. Rogue landed on her hands and feet, but men number five and two were prepared. Five grabbed her by the back of her shirt and held her in a headlock. Number two punched her repeatedly in the stomach. Rogue coughed and number five loosened his grip a little. She took the opportunity to bite his arm. Number five let go and Rogue dropped into a crouched position on the ground, swung her leg out and tripped number two.

The X-man decided it was a better idea to try and get away then stay and fight, being out matched. Men in black were blocking both exits to the alley so the Goth ran to a nearby fire escape and jumped to pull down the ladder. She started to climb. One of the men, she couldn't figure out which from her numbering system, grabbed her foot. Rogue easily got him to let go by stomping her heavy combat boots on his face. Unfortunately she didn't make it much farther than the first landing when she was hit in the face with a wooden crate that at one time was sitting next to the dumpster. The smell of old Chinese food from the crate was the last thing Rogue remembered before she fell backward onto the poorly constructed side of the fire escape. The railing gave away and she fell down to the concrete and the assailants.

* * *

Sly had just turned the key in the front door lock of Vinyl Vintage when a red and white striped convertible pulled up behind him. "Sorry folks, we just closed," he told the couple who still had the remnants of red V's on their foreheads. After scrubbing for a half-hour in the bathroom, Jean and Scott still could not get the lipstick off their faces. Just goes to show that you should throw out makeup after it's a year old, instead of aging it twenty-five years.

"We're here to pick up Rogue," Scott explained to the manager.

"Rogue," he said, confused. "I told her she could leave about ten minutes ago."

Jean grew angry; this was not her day. "I bet she left with that Gambit guy again!"

"I don't think so," Sly defended. "She said she wanted to go straight home to bed after a day like today."

Meanwhile, Jean decided to do a general mental scan of the area. "Oh, no," she cried and ran down the alley to the back of the store. Scott and Sly followed her. As they rounded the corner, all three gasped at the sight. Rogue laid on the ground with her arm in a funny position with five large men, dressed in black standing over her.

"Get away from her!!" brotherly Scott yelled as he took off his glasses. A red beam shot from his eyes and sent one of the men sailing down the alley. Jean squinted and lifted two up in the air. They were checked into the wall. The fourth one got a right hook from Sly but wasn't fazed by the attack from the skinny stick boy. Sly was thrown up against the alley wall near Rogue's unconscious form. Scott jump-kicked number four in the back and sent him to the ground. The fifth man decided to count his loses and ran. The others followed suit shortly after.

"Rogue, are you okay?" Jean knelt down next to the Goth's body. Rogue was unresponsive. Her nose was bleeding, her left eye puffy and changing colors, her left arm was out of joint and it was probably broken too. At least she was still breathing. "Sly, go call and ambulance." Scott sat down next to Jean and Rogue. He took Jean's hand and squeezed it. With the other he brushed the stray white hair from Rogue's face, careful not to touch her skin. Sly rejoined them a few minutes later and waited until the screaming ambulance was heard in the background.

* * *

(1) Following scene and various others in this chapter are taken from the movie _Empire Records._ (2) Insult from _the Princess Bride_. A/N: There done. That was a beast to write. Sorry if it seems a little skeletal at times, I really wanted to get this baby out there. 'til next time : ) 


	14. End of the Longest Day

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_thoughts_**  
telepathy**

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Fourteen - The End of the Longest Day …or is it? *Evil Laughter***

"Hey girl!"

"Hey girl, wake up!"

Rogue's head shot up from her sixth period desk when a purple-haired British punk sitting next to her rudely elbowed her.

"What the hell, Risty?" Rogue grumbled. "Ah was really enjoying pre-calc today." She looked at the blackboard and saw Kitty writing away using some script, unfamiliar to Rogue, to solve the problem. _Since when was Kitty in mah math class_? Rogue rubbed her eyes and looked up again. Kitty was gone, and the teacher was speaking again. _Wake up, Rogue. You're dreaming when you're awake again._ Risty brought her back to reality.

"I know you did, luv," her best friend whispered across the aisle. "You spent the whole time dreaming of your self-absorbed, hunny-bunny of a Cajun."

"He is not mah 'honey-bunny,'" Rogue whispered back then yawned.

"I cannot believe you are still in denial," Risty analyzed. "Granted he's not the best fish in the pond, but he is one of the best looking. Incomparable to that Scott chap. Still don't know what you were thinking with that one."

"Whatever," the southern goth rolled her eyes. "Why'd ya wake meh up anyways?"

"Girl, class was over ages ago and we've got a concert to get ready for!" Risty exclaimed and stood up.

Rogue looked around the room, and it was indeed empty. _I coulda sworn there were people here a minute ago_.

"Come on," Risty grabbed Rogue's hand and pulled her out of the classroom and onto the beach. Risty let go of Rogue's hand and started to run ahead. Rogue stopped and looked at the ocean. There was something strange about it. She took off her sneakers, rolled up her black jeans to just below her knees and waded a few feet and looked into the water. Rogue saw gravel and shells and other normal sea stuff underneath her feet. Another wave rolled in, swelling the water up to her knees, soaking the bottom of her jeans. Then she saw it, a face in the water. Kurt's face. But it wasn't Kurt's face. It was transparent, sickly, and distorted. The Goth shrieked and tried to run backwards but tripped and soaked the rest of her jeans and half of her sweater in salt water.

"What's all the commotion?" Risty called from up the beach.

"There are faces! Faces in the water!" Rogue shouted back. She looked to her left and saw Lance's face, to the right, Storm's. Then Sabertooth's face rolled by. Rogue shrieked again and crawled hastily out of the tide.

"Well I'll be," Risty commented as she came over and took a peak. "It's like the bloody dead marshes. (2)"

One spirit stood up out of the water and started to walk to the beach.

"What are they?" Rogue asked her friend.

"You know what they are," she answered, not looking down at her friend sitting in the sand but at the rising spirits from the water.

"No, Ah don'," Rogue grew irritated. "Tell meh."

The purple-haired Brit, still looking at the horizon, sighed. "We're in your mind, luv. These are the psyches of all the people you've absorbed."

"What?!" Rogue was surprised. She looked at the approaching psyches. "They look angry. What do ya think they want?"

"I think they're bored just sitting 'ere and feel like trying their hand at driving Battestar Rogue," Risty concluded.

Rogue quickly stood up and backed up a few more steps from the ocean of psyches. Then she looked at Risty and with a suspicious look on her face, took a step back from her as well. "What 'bout you? Are ya one o' them?"

Risty laughed. "When did you touch me, Rogue? Nope, I'm just a regular ole' figment of your imagination. I'm you, when you get right down to it. I know what you know, no more, no less." Some of the psyches had made it to shore. "But it looks like you can't join me for tea. You have to get back into the captain's chair, girl." Risty turned Rogue around and started pushing her away from the ocean. Then a large hole opened up in the sky and someone in a white jumpsuit with EMT written across the back landed on the beach next to the pair. When he landed a large bright wave emerged from his body and swept across the sands. It picked Rogue up and shot her above the ocean, above the clouds, above the sky…

Searing pain ripped through Rogue's body as she gasped for air and sat up sharply. Her chest burned with each breath, she felt like she had the worse hangover ever, and her left arm screamed bloody murder even though it hung limply at her side.

"James, James," a woman was calling on her left. Rogue managed to crane her head over far enough to make to a woman with black hair in an EMT jumpsuit shaking a man, also in a jumpsuit, who was lying unconscious on the floor. The conscious EMT got up and grabbed smelling salts from a box in the ambulance. _Yes, Ah'm in an ambulance. Men, five men, attacked meh. They were completely covered an' one had a bat. An' now all ah can smell is old Chinese food from that damn crate._ Rogue looked down at herself. Her left arm was bare. _Mah sweater's gone. Where's mah sweater?! _She panicked. _But ah still have mah sweater coverin' mah right arm_. Rogue then saw the rest of her purple sweater lying on the floor. _The EMT musta accidentally touched mah skin tryin' ta pop mah arm back inta socket_. She looked back over to the two EMT's. Sure enough, the unconscious one looked like the man who fell on the beach just before that wave of energy woke her up.

"That won' work," Rogue informed the female EMT.

The EMT looked up at her patient for the first time since Rogue became conscious. "What do you mean it won't work? Do you have any idea what I'm doin'?"

"Yeah," Rogue told her. "Ya are tryin' ta revive your partner usin' smellin' salts or ammonium carbonate which is a white crystalline solid. The ammonium carbonate is mixed with a perfume in smellin' salts ta create a stimulant. The ammonia fumes from the salts irritate the membranes o' the nose and lungs, which trigger a reflex causin' the muscles that control breathin' ta work faster. You're usin' it 'cause ya think he fainted an' the smellin' salts should wake him up. But he didn' faint so it won' work," Rogue cheated and used some of James medical knowledge to make sure that the EMT would actually listen to her and not just dismiss her as some stupid kid.

The EMT blinked hard at her. "Okay hot shot, what happened to him then?"

"He touched meh," the patient replied calmly, although the pain in her limbs and chest was growing by the minute as her body woke up.

"He touched you? Yeah, he was trying to shove your arm back in its socket, of course he touched you!" The EMT started to go back to the smelling salts.

"No, ya don' understand," the untouchable started. "He touched mah skin. When somebody touches meh, ah take their energy from them, knockin' them out." The EMT glared angrily at her patient which caused Rogue to add quickly, "Ah can' help it, it doesn' shut off. But he didn' touch meh long so he should wake up in a few minutes."

"You're a fricking mutant!" the EMT shouted and moved away from her.

The pain was getting to be too much for her and Rogue had had enough of this anti-mutant bullshit tonight, "Yeah, with a dislocated shoulder that hurts like hell. So if ya would be so kind as ta _do your job._"

The EMT's face grimaced and grew cold. Two latex gloved hands grabbed the X-man, one on her shoulder, one on her arm. Rogue bit her tongue and held in her screams as her arm rolled back into joint.

* * *

An ambulance siren roared by, but the three customers in a nearby diner didn't notice.

"No! If they don't let me drink in this god forsaken country, then I'm gonna close their juice bars!" St. John Allerdyce pounded his fist on the table for emphasis. Remy LeBeau just let his head drop into his hand as he shook his head.

The vibration of John's fist hitting the table traveled down the table and jolted Wanda Maximoff out of her nap. Her hand shot over to cover John's passionately clenched fist. "No, no poundy," she said lazily then brought her hand back under her head for a pillow. John sheepishly apologized.

After Wanda settled back, Remy lifted his head and spoke, "Dere are two things wrong wit' dat statement. One, dis is a Steak & Shake, not a juice bar, hence all de food. Two, Steak & Shake is open twenty-four hours, you can't close it."

"Stop raining on his parade, eh." The Canadian waitress came over to the booth with a fresh pot of coffee. "More coffee, cutie pie?" she asked John. John pushed his empty cup toward her; then Remy pushed it away.

At the "cutie pie" remark Wanda's head shot up. She narrowed her eyes at the waitress, "What did you call him?"

"Cutie pie," the waitress repeated confidently. "I didn't mean anything by it. Sometimes it gets you a little more tips. Got to pay for that out-of-country college tuition, now don't I? Boy, you girlfriend isn't possessive at all." She directed that last sarcastic comment at the fireboy.

"I am not possessive," Wanda retorted. "I wondered how you can call him cute when he's dressed in fishnets and lingerie, not to mention that 80's electric blue eye shadow."

"What can I say? I'm attracted to the peculiar ones," shrugged the waitress.

"Peculiar? Bizarre beyond comparison is more like it," Remy interjected.

"Yes, and your ensemble is totally normal," the waitress said, eyeing his own erotic getup, spike-heeled boots and all. "Oh, that reminds me, if Ms. Ho-bag the manager comes out, you have to put your shoes back on," she directed at John. "You don't want to be kicked out or anything."

"Thank you." John squinted to read her nametag. "Ania."

"No problem." Ania winked at the group then went to clean off some empty tables.

"Hey, that's like the demon mortal Shelia on Buffy," John, member of the BTVS fan club, exclaimed.

Ania chuckled. "Yeah, but mine's spelt cooler."

The name also struck a cord with Remy. "Ania," he mused. "Dat's de name of dat girl dat's dating, damn, what's his name? Wanda?" Remy hesitantly poked the snoozing witch.

She looked up half-consciously. "What Santa?"

"What's de name o' de guy dat works wit' Rogue sometimes?"

"Lucas," the witch guessed.

Remy shook his head.

"Jamal? BJ?"

More head shaking.

"Sly?"

"Yeah, dat's it. Are you de Ania's who's dating Sly?"

"Yeah." Ania smiled and blushed a little. She then looked at her watch and her smile faded. "Actually, he was going to meet me here after he closed, but he should have been here by now."

"I'm sure it just took him a little longer bein' he had to show Rogue de ropes," Remy reassured the waitress. _If Sly isn't here yet, Rogue should still be at Vinyl Vintage too_. Remy looked across the table at John, who was taking a sip of his fresh coffee Ania slipped him when Remy wasn't looking. Remy shook his head, wishing he didn't have to live in the same house as the now caffeine-high pyromaniac. "Mon dieu John, how long you plan on nursing de free coffee?"

John looked up and thought for a bit. "My guess is until the manager kicks me out for putting my broken pump on the table or I burn something beyond recognition, whichever comes first."

"I d'ought you had a concert to go to tomorrow night," Remy inquired.

"Oh yeah." John started giving Wanda the poke of doom (3).

"What?!" She opened her eyes and glared at John. "Can't a girl get some sleep?"

John ignored the second question. "Are you going to the concert or seeking revenge tomorrow night?"

"Still thinking about it," she answered and closed her eyes again.

"No, done thinking, need answer now." John restarted the poke of doom.

"Whatever answer gets you to stop poking me and lets me finish my nap," she grumbled.

"Great!" John exclaimed.

"Wait!" Wanda sat upright. "What did I just agree to?"

"You're going to the Kittie concert with me tomorrow," John told her.

Wanda relaxed. "Okay, I can live with that. The in-flight movie sucked anyway." Then she laid her head back on the table. _It's weird, but am not as angry with my father when I'm with John. I just want to have a good time. Revenge on him seems too serious a thing to waste spending time on. Don't get me wrong, he will pay for abandoning me, but the need is not that urgent anymore. I'm sure once I see him again, my thirst will be rekindled, but right now I'm really enjoying my life. My life that he will have nothing to do with and no control over_.

You guys want a look into John's head? Well you're gonna get a peak anyway: _Yes! She likes me more than she hates Magneto, nah, nah-nah, nah, nah-nah. Bwahahahahahah_. The firebug could not stop grinning.

Remy stood up and swung his trench coat on. "I'm goin' to walk over to Vinyl Vintage and see if Rogue's still there. You goin' to be here when I come back?"

"Yes," John replied, but something about the look in his eyes and the devilish smile on his face told Remy otherwise.

"Keys." Remy held out his hand to John.

"No! You've left me hanging twice now; I'm not giving you the bloody keys!"

"And dat's exactly why I don't trust you here wit' dem." Remy continued to hold his hand out.

"Will you two grow up!" Wanda interrupted. "Here, give me the keys."

"Wait, how do I know you won't just ditch me because he asked you to?" Remy asked.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "If anything, I'll ditch you both and steal your car."

"You'd ditch me?" John asked, hurt.

"Think of it as revenge for poking me," she told him.

John looked to Remy. "I'm not happy with this arrangement either."

"Fine," Wanda growled. "Hey, Ania, catch."

The waitress expertly turned and caught the flying keys. "What's this?"

"The boys don't trust each other not to ditch the other so if you could just hold onto those 'til Remy comes back that would be great," Wanda explained.

"Now I have the power!" she exclaimed and laughed evilly. "I better get a good tip for this."

"A verbal one probably won't suffice, eh?" John asked.

"If it is directions to find a buried treasure, then yes," the waitress answered.

"If it's not?" John wanted clarification.

"Uh, no."

"Figured," John said as he looked in his thinning wallet.

"Well, I'm out of here," Remy said and walked out the door.

After he left Wanda turned to John. "You do realize that Remy can just hot wire the car, right?"

"Damn."

* * *

The Acolyte vehicle pulled up in front of Vinyl Vintage just as two people finished giving their report to the police. Remy waited until the cops were gone before confronting the couple that was jumping into their red and white striped convertible. Remy didn't recognize the couple at first so he got out of the car and walked toward them.

"Hey, do you two know if Rogue is still here?" Remy asked.

The girl's red hair flew around rapidly as she snapped her head toward the Cajun. Her green eyes shot daggers at him. "You! This is your fault!"

"What?! What are you talking 'bout, petite?" Remy held up his hands defensively and backed away a safe physical distance.

Scott joined in. "If you hadn't gotten us hung up at the Rocky Horror Picture Show (4), we may have gotten here in time!"

A dark, all-consuming pit formed in the bottom of his stomach. "Hey now, dat was all John's doing, well, mostly John's doing. What do you mean, 'here in time'? Where's Rogue?"

"By now she's at Bayville General Hospital," Jean told him.

"What?! What happened?" Remy demanded to know.

Jean could tell that he was truly concerned, but she was still angry at him for the RHPS and his involvement with Rogue. "She was attacked after work while waiting for us to be let out of our cages and find our clothes."

Remy decided to drop the argument. _Like dey were ordered to follow us three city blocks an' den follow us into de theater._ Remy ran back to the driver's side of the Acolyte's vehicle. From the driver's seat he saw Scott pull off his glasses and aim it at the car. POP, FIZZLE, and the driver's side of the car sunk downward. Now Remy was beyond angry.

"What de hell was dat for!?" Remy jumped out of the car and got into Scott's face.

"You stay away from Rogue," Scott warned and opened his car door.

"Or what, one-eye?" Remy grabbed a hold of the door and charged it.

"Listen, I don't know what your intentions with Rogue are," Jean started after cooling down a little, "but she's had nothing but trouble since she started seeing you, and I think for her sake you should knock it off."

Remy uncharged the door and took a step back. He stood in the street as he watched the convertible speed away. _Maybe dey are right. Its not like she would let our relationship go much farther anyway. Like she would like me after finding out about my past. I don't even like me for it. I know it won't work out in the long run, figured that out a couple days ago, but why do I keep coming back? _

_She has gotten attacked, grounded, kicked out o' a few placed, not to mention whatever flack she's getting from home fo' openly seeing me. But did that have anything to do with seeing me? Is it really my fault? Maybe it would be better to stay away, not get anymore attached. _Remy solemnly walked to the back of the vehicle to pull out the spare.

* * *

After his struggle to recover the keys to the vehicle that was no longer in the parking lot, John went to the bathroom to empty his four cups of coffee. Wanda was on coffee number one plus a nice little brownie dessert when Sly burst into Steak & Shake after running from Vinyl Vintage.

"Hey you." Ania smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. "What's wrong?" she asked after seeing the fear and concern in his brown eyes.

Sly went and sat down at a table near John and Wanda, Ania followed him. "You know that mutant girl I was telling you about, the one I work with?"

"Yeah," Ania said.

"Well, I was closing with her tonight and some guys beat her up pretty bad in the alley behind the store. She's on her way to the hospital right now," Sly said quietly.

The Scarlet Witch gritted her teeth. "Stupid flatscan humans." The lights in the diner flickered on and off and Wanda's coffee cup rose into the air. "They don't know what they've started."

"Hey!" the offended Sly interjected. "We aren't all bad! We're on your side!" The Vinyl Vintage employee referred to himself and Ania. "Then there's Jamal: He hired Rogue despite her being a mutant, and he let's you shop there."

Wanda raised her eyebrows. "Oh, he _let's_ me shop there. Like he could stop me!" Salt and pepper shakers elevated around the diner. Napkin holders spewed out cucumbers…no just kidding, they spewed out napkins.

Ania ducked underneath a table when a bundle of silverware buzzed her ear, almost catching on one of her many piercings. A similar bundle wizzed by Sly's head, but his eyes remained transfixed on Wanda. "Knock it off, Wanda."

"You can't tell me what to do! I won't bow down and be treated like a second-class citizen! I won't stand by while my people and my friends are being beaten for something in their DNA!" The objects in the room started spinning.

Sly stood up, never losing eye contact with the witch. "I'm not discriminating against you! As your friend I am asking you to stop trying to frighten me and deal with this more productively! Stop trying to turn the few humans out there that are routing for mutant equality so you can hate a whole race and not differentiate between them!"

Wanda dropped her arms to her sides and every object previously floating or spinning in the air fell to the ground. Several glass salt and pepper shakers shattered, spraying glass, sodium chloride, and pepper all over the floor. One saltshaker was intercepted on its way down, by Sly's head.

"Sorry," Wanda said reflexively. She wasn't sure if she was apologizing only for the bonk on the head or if it was because what Sly said had some truth in it. The witch remained silent, thinking about what had transpired, absently staring off in to space. Ania emerged from underneath the table and put her arms around Sly's waist and laid her head on his shoulder. He put one arm around her and rested his hand on the small of her back.

The awkward silence was thankfully interrupted by the banging of the bathroom door on the outer wall.

"What did I miss?" John asked. Then he took a look at the diner whose floor was covered in broken glass, napkins and condiments.

"Oh, nothing really," Ania told him "We just reenacted a scene from _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_ (5)."

John jumped up and down. "Hey can we do the soccer scene next? Or the one under the sea?"

Two black shoes, one with a heel, one without sailed across the room at the Acolyte's head. Again thanks to his sharpened reactions due to the big bad cat that has been stalking him, he ducked and dodged his shoes.

"A simple 'No' would have sufficed," John mumbled as he picked up his shoes.

Ania looked around the diner and sighed. She reluctantly left Sly's arms and pulled out a broom from the janitor's closet.

Wanda absently watched the waitress then noticed more brooms in the closet. Some had broken handles but that didn't matter. The red witch summoned one intact broom to herself and sent the others to other parts of the diner to sweep.

Ania smiled at her. "The brooms aren't going to pull a Mickey Mouse_ Sorcerer's Apprentice_ (6) trick on me are they?"

Before they could relax and laugh, a thirty-something woman with thin poorly dyed red hair feathered out in eighties circle bangs emerged from the back offices. "What the hell happened here?!" Her face and neck grew redder than her hair. Then she turned and saw Dr. Frank-N-Furter (7) John with his shoes still in his hands. "Why don't you have shoes on?! No shoes, no shirt, no service!!" Next she noticed the unmanned brooms. "Mutants," she spat. "I should have known."

"No, it's not their fault, Ms. Ho-bag, I mean, Ms. Hollenbag," Ania sputtered their defense. "One of their friends were attacked -"

"I don't care to hear it, Ania," Ms. Hollenbag interrupted. "You mutie-lover. I couldn't believe it when you convinced the owner to take down the 'No Mutants' sign, but guess what? He'll hear about this, and I'll insist he put it back up for everyone's safety!"

The manager stomped over to the nearest broom and grabbed it. Wanda crossed her arms, dropped the other brooms and concentrated solely on the one Ms. Hollenbag was holding. Wanda smiled wickedly and John outright laughed as the manager wrestled with the broom. Even Sly and Ania had to bite their tongues when the broom flew upward out of her hands and came back down to thwack her in the buttocks. After a few minutes the broom stopped struggling and Ms. Hollenbag fell backward.

"Let's go, John. I'm bored," Wanda said and held her left hand out. John slipped on his broken shoes and hobbled over the glass to his girl.

Ms. Hollenbag obviously didn't want them to leave just yet, which she illustrated to them by swatting Wanda with the broom. Wanda didn't expect her to be so stupid, so the surprise attack caught her off balance and sent her to the floor. The witch turned and glared at Ms. Ho-bag. A twitch of an icy blue eye shattered every single window in the 5th Avenue Steak & Shake.

Just before she was about to work more of her mojo, John held up his hand in front of her. "I got it, luv." John's lighter moved at light speed and soon the broom was flaming. While the manager tried to put the fire out and not ignite her hair-sprayed hair, John helped Wanda up and they left.

The manager succeeded in her previous goal, but unbeknownst to her, John had also sent a small flame to warm up a nearby ketchup bottle. Ms. Hollenbag happened to be standing right next to it when the added heat increased the pressure within the bottle past the plastic's ability to contain it.

Wanda and John heard the small explosion as they walked toward Vinyl Vintage to find Remy.

* * *

The couple found him parked in front of the closed store, sitting on the hood of the Acolyte-mobile. Remy was obviously not in this world as John easily snuck around to the driver's side, hopped in and started it up. The vibration of the engine jolted Remy out of his daze.

Remy slowly slid off the hood and sat down in the seat behind John.

"So, where to, mate?" John asked. "What hospital did they take her to?"

"Bayville General," Remy said quietly.

"Okedokie, to Bayville General then." John put the car into gear.

"Non, just go back to da base," Remy told cab driver John.

"What are you talking about? Didn't you hear about Rogue?"

"Yeah, her friends are d'ere. I don' want to start anythin'," Remy sounded beaten.

"Come on, you can sneak in and out of there before they even notice you're there. And even if they do, I've got your back. I've got four cups of coffee racing through me: I'm raring for a fight, plus Wanda's conscious now." John encouraged his friend.

"I said I don' feel like it! Now just drive back to base or wherever as long as it is not a hospital." Remy slumped in the back seat. "Better yet, let's go back to Steak & Shake, so I can grab a burger."

"Now," John paused dramatically. "We can't exactly do that."

Remy groaned and started massaging his head. "Do I want to know?"

"You know how you told John he couldn't close Steak & Shake because it was open 24-7?" Wanda told him.

"Well, we decided to close it anyway," John finished.

"Mon dieu, well there's another blacklisted joint to add to de list," Remy remarked.

"It might be simpler for you guys just to have a list of every business in Bayville and cross out the ones you get kicked out of as you go along," Wanda commented.

"You sure you don't want to make a pit stop at the hospital?" John asked one final time. Remy didn't say anything and slumped down even farther in his seat. _I'm goin' to quit. Cold-turkey. Great, now it sounds like I'm addicted to a girl. Remy, you are losing your touch. Getting all bent out of shape over a girl you could never have. Nope, no more calls, no more midnight visits, no more going to her work. Unless you need some new music. Or a poster. Or anything at all that they could possibly sell in that store. You're pathetic, LeBeau._

* * *

The bright fluorescent lights were killing her eyes. Jean and Scott had been in hospital for a half hour, trying to find Rogue. They asked for her at here at Bayville General: No one matched her description. They asked a couple people before they could find one willing to check other hospitals in the area: Again, no one fit the Goth's description.

"Something's going on," Jean told Scott her suspicions. "It's not like there are a million ways to describe a girl with auburn hair with white bangs, pale skin and gobs of dark purple makeup."

Jean saw another desk worker come out of the employee's lounge and attacked. "Excuse me, could you help me locate my friend?" Jean flashed her award-winning smile at the male desk attendee. Scott preferred not to watch this flirting match and looked at the patients coming in the door instead.

"Sure, name please?" the man with the Caleb nametag asked.

"Rogue. That's her full name. Like Cher. She was unconscious at the time she left so I don't know if the paramedics knew it or not," Jean told him.

Caleb punched in some keys on his keyboard. A new screen popped up, "We have record of receiving a call and the EMTs were instructed to bring her here. That's weird. The call was made almost an hour ago and I have no record of her coming into the emergency room."

Jean sighed. "I knew I should have ridden with her in the ambulance, but the police wanted a statement. She was all beat up from those lousy mutant-hating scumbags. I hope nothing happened to the ambulance on the way here."

Caleb looked at her questionably. "Did you say your friend was a mutant?"

"Yes, is there a problem?" Jean felt an angry fire on the verge of exploding inside.

"Not for me, but there were some guys in the break room talking about a mutant being brought in who knocked out a paramedic on the way over. You might want to check the ambulance bay." Caleb wouldn't look Jean in the eyes.

Jean spun around and grabbed Scott by the arm. She dragged him out into the ambulance bay. There wasn't anyone out there. Jean expected another mob and an even more beaten body of the Rogue.

"Hey, can someone come an' give meh a check-up all ready?!" came a voice from a parked ambulance.

Scott beat Jean to the doors of the vehicle. "Rogue! You're okay!"

"Hell, no, ah'm not okay! All that EMT did was put mah arm back inta its socket. It still hurts like hell not ta mention it hurts ta think an' breathe, an' ah don't think yellin' for the past hour or so has helped any!" an enraged Rogue ranted.

"Why didn't they take you into the ER?" Jean asked.

"'Cause Ah'm a mutant," Rogue started. "An' Ah might have knocked an EMT out." Scott gave her a disapproving look. "It wasn't like ah beat the shit outta him, so stop it with that look, Scott. Ah wasn't even conscious when it happened."

"Jean, why don't you run inside and make some more flirty eyes with that nurse so we can get someone here to check out Rogue," Scott suggested.

"You have to stop ordering me around, Scott." A bit of the Bayville Siren acted out.

"Okay, I'll got flirt with the nurse, but I don't think that I will have the same effect on him." Scott turned to walk back into the hospital.

"Nevermind, I'll do it, you stay here with Rogue," Jean said.

"Now who's ordering whom around?" Scott teased.

Rogue could have sworn she saw Jean give Scott the finger, but decided it was just her eye swelling.

* * *

Rogue twisted around in the backseat of Scott's convertible to watch the sunrise. The three had spent all night at the hospital. The gates to Xavier's Institute opened and welcomed their return. Also welcoming them were all of the adults on the front porch, as well as some eyes from the front bedroom windows.

Rogue groaned inwardly. _The last thing ah need today is the Spanish Inquisition from each an' every adult. 'How did it happen?' 'Are ya okay?' 'Does it hurt?' 'What did they use ta treat ya?' 'Are ya really okay?' 'Would ya like some Jello?' 'Cause if your not okay, we can…' Ah don't know. Mah brain hurts now. Ah'm done thinkin', time ta recover from one of the longest days of mah life. PLEASE, just let meh get up ta mah room ta sleep!_

**Rogue**, Jean addressed the Goth. **I didn't mean to hear but you kinda projected that last thought pretty loud. And if you don't mind, I think I can grant that to you.**

**That's okay, Jean. An' ah would love it if ya could grant mah wish.** Rogue was much more forgiving since they injected her with happy juice for the pain.

Scott opened the car door for Rogue to get out. She quickly bolted past the adults. "Sorry, no autographs today folks." Logan was about to stop her when Jean sent everyone a mental summary of what had transpired that night. It took less than ten seconds, everyone knew what was going on, and Jean followed Rogue's lead and retired to her room:

After some finagling and a few hair flips, Jean got Rogue into a hospital bed and a doctor to take a look at her. The Goth had a few bruised ribs and a sprained wrist now in a sling, but no concussions, broken limbs, or internal bleeding. Still the doctor recommended that Rogue be admitted, at least for the day for observation. Rogue didn't like that idea. Neither did the nursing staff. Despite being briefed about her powers, four nurses fell victim to it. Jean suspected that the fourth nurse wasn't quite as unintentional as Rogue said, but let it go. She had had a hell of a day: two early morning practices with Logan, school, work, being attacked by five brutes, being left out in the ambulance for an hour, hostile paramedics and nurses, then those annoying hang up calls coming to her hospital room every half-hour to hour. Well, after the fourth nurse fell, the hospital staff kindly asked Rogue through gritted teeth to leave. Rogue happily obliged and was released into Jean and Scott's care.

* * *

Rogue barely paused to struggle and pull off her boots one-handed before falling onto her bed. She was exhausted in every way, shape and form. But she couldn't sleep. Every time she would shut her eyes she'd remember Risty, the "ocean," and all the psyches. _What if they still want ta control meh? If ah fall asleep, will they get that chance?_ She knew she should go talk to the professor, but her bed was so comfortable and she never liked it when someone invaded her mind. She wasn't in control. So she laid awake in bed. She heard Kitty get up and get ready for school; Kurt squeal with joy when Scott threw the keys to his convertible in the elf's face then buried his head back into his pillow; Hank somehow manage to corral the Newbies to take them to the middle school.

At nine-thirty she almost drifted off, but there was a sharp ringing in her ear. Rogue grabbed it and heard a dial tone. Big surprise. At least now she knew who kept calling her. It wasn't the mutant haters; they would have said some stupid remark. It wasn't anyone at the mansion; they were at school or at the mansion and could talk to her in person if they wanted to. No one from work would call, thinking that she was at school if they hadn't heard or recovering if they had. It wasn't anyone from the Brotherhood; they don't get out of bed until after noon. Risty was god knows where. So that left the Acolyte boys. Specifically Remy.

The phone rang again. This time Rogue picked it up on the first ring and yelled into the phone, "Goddammit, Remy! If you're gonna keep callin' meh at least talk ta meh!"

There was silence on the other end for a bit. Then a familiar voice answered. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Elementary, mah dear Watson. What else have ah got ta think about than who the hell keeps callin' meh an' hangin' up?" Rogue told him. "Really, Remy, ya need ta abandon these grade school tactics of callin' a girl and hangin' up once someone answers."

"You can't sleep either, can you?" Remy deduced.

Rogue paused. "No, Ah can't. How'd ya figure that out?"

"I figured if you were asleep you would have either not hear de phone or heard it and ignored it if you were sleepin'," Remy told her.

"Well, ah guess we both know each other a little better than we thought," Rogue commented.

"Why aren't you sleepin'?" Remy asked the Goth.

"You first," she ordered.

"Non, that's not how it works." Remy smiled on his end of the phone.

"Ah'm hurt, amuse meh," Rogue reminded him. Then she added, "Please."

"John had four cups of coffee last night after Rocky Horror, and he kept me up," Remy lied.

"Bull," she called his bluff.

"No, John really had four cups of coffee. He downed them like shots."

"Rogue read his voice. John is not why you haven't slept, at least not the whole reason."

Remy sighed. "Been thinkin'."

"'bout what?" she asked when he didn't continue.

"'bout you." More silence. "Rogue, do you want me to keep comin' by your work to see you?"

"Yeah," she answered without hesitation, surprising both herself and Remy. "Why wouldn't ah?"

"I know you've been getting a lot of slack from your friends lately, an' den it was kind of partly my fault Jean and Scott were late picking you up, an' if they hadn't been late…" Remy trailed off. Despite his previous resolution to quit Rogue cold turkey, he had decided she deserved more than that.

Rogue couldn't believe he was blaming himself for what happened. "If you hadn't made them late, Ah'm sure they would have just lost track of time makin' out somewhere. Remy how can ya blame yourself for what happened tonight? Ya had nothin' ta do with it."

"Something your friend Jean said got me thinking that maybe it would be simpler if I didn't come around," Remy confessed.

"Who wants simplicity? Scott maybe, but ah certainly don't," Rogue argued. "Ah like it when ya come around ta keep meh company. An' ah did have a really good time playin' pool with ya the other night." Rogue fingered the blue chalk Remy swiped for her between her fingers. "An' don't worry 'bout what goes on at the institute 'tween meh and people like Jean and Scott. Most of its crap an' ah don't give it a second thought. They only do it 'cause they don't understand an' they worry 'bout meh. So, ya think ya can sleep now?"

"Huh, what?" Remy feigned a yawn. "Sorry, chere, dat speech o' yours was a doosie."

"Shut up, swamp rat." She laughed a little.

"So, why aren't you sleepin'?" Remy asked.

Rogue sighed. "Scared ta."

"Scared? What are you scared of? D'ose men?" Remy required a little more info.

"Oh, no. Not those dirtbags." Rogue didn't want to continue but felt compelled to. "Ah had a bad dream while Ah was under." She paused. "No, it wasn't really a dream. Ah don't know what it was."

"What happened in your dream dat wasn't a dream?"

"Well, the people in mah head, pieces of everyone ah ever absorbed," she struggled to explain, "they were all tryin' ta take control over mah body. Ah was zapped back to consciousness just in time, but Ah, Ah'm afraid if Ah go ta sleep that they'll try it again."

Remy was in awe. He wouldn't know how to live with stuff like that every day of his life. He blew a couple people up and that was hard enough to live with. But to touch someone and have them inside your head forever? And they probably don't understand what is going on. Remy realized that it was not the time to contemplate, but to say something to comfort her. "Have dey ever taken over your body before? While you were asleep or awake?"

"No."

"Den what makes you d'ink dat dey'll do it now?"

"They were unhappy an' they felt stronger than before."

"Have you ever seen dem in your dreams before?"

"No, only when those guys knocked meh out," she answered.

"I'm no expert o' anything," he started. "but I think dat when you dream an' when you're knocked out, you use different parts o' your brain o' maybe your consciousness is in another place (A/N: Yo guys, I'm making this up. But in this world it is to be true, because I deemed it true. So it shall be.) I don't know." He couldn't help her. "Maybe you should ask your professor."

"Ya know, swamp rat," Rogue said. "Ah think you're right. One of those nurses ah touched was a psychology major an' she remembers something like that from a lecture."

There was silence on the line for a bit. Then Rogue told Remy, "Thank you."

"For what?" he was a little confused.

"You were the first person ta actually make meh feel better since this whole mess happened," Rogue smiled.

"You think you can sleep now?" Remy asked.

"Yeah, Ah think Ah will," Rogue agreed.

"I'll let you go den."

"Wait Remy," Rogue called. "What _did_ ya do exactly ta make Jean an' Scott late? Ah want a laugh 'fore ah go ta sleep."

* * *

(1) Line from the infamous _Princess Bride_.

(2) Reference to _Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers_.

(3) Poke of doom is from _Invader Zim_, at least I think that's where my friends came up with it from. Don't sue me it if it's not.

(4) See Chapter 13 – Something Like Rex Manning Day

(5) _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_ is a movie from the seventies starring Angela Lansbury as an English witch who fights Nazi's. The bed flies too. Very strange. Not a required viewing.

(6) From Disney's _Fantasia_. Also not a required viewing.

(7) Tim Curry's character from _Rocky Horror Picture Show._ Definitely a required viewing. If you can see it in a theater with a bunch a weirdoes, all the better.

**A/N**: Okay, folks that's it for this time. Mosey along. Me, I'm heading back to school for one final semester *wipes tear from eye* So I will be busy with school stuff for another four months. Updating will be sporadic if at all. I have no intentions of abandoning this story even though I didn't think it would take over a year to get it in writing. Peace, Love and Happy mints until next time ;)


	15. Step on it, bub

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_thoughts_  
**telepathy**

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Fifteen - Step on it, bub!  
**

"I can't believe you're actually going to try and sneak out tonight," said Kitty Pryde, sitting Indian style on her bed with her school books spread out around her. For the last hour she watched her broken roommate that had spend the last hour struggling to stuff her bed one-handed. "You are _so_ going to get caught. Kurt doesn't think you'll get past the oak, but my money is on the front gate."

"Ya'll are bettin' on mah failure?" Rogue pretended to sound insulted. "So do ah win the pool if ah make it?"

"No, actually Jamie bet that you would make it," Kitty told Rogue.

"Jamie?! Who all is in on this?" she poked her head out from underneath her bed where she was searching for that mannequin hand she stole from the Gap.

"Me, Kurt, Evan, Jamie, Bobby, and Sam," her roommate replied. "Only five bucks each. We're low rollers."

"Huh," Rogue got out from under her bed and carefully placed the hand halfway out of her covers. Then she headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Kitty asked Rogue, whose good hand was on the door knob.

"Ah'm gonna go ask Jamie what he's gonna do with his thirty dollars." Rogue smiled and closed the door behind her.

* * *

A slight breeze blew Rogue purple scarf as she leaned up against the balcony railing looking out across the yard bathed in moonlight. She was dressed up for the concert, black leather English riding boots, black knee-length skirt with a slit up the leg and decretive chains, black camisole tank top, long black gloves, and her favorite purple scarf wrapped around her neck. Oh, and don't forget her mismatched sling holding her left arm. Rogue ground her teeth every time she thought about it. Her eye was very black, but she covered it up decently with makeup. Her ribs still hurt like hell and sometimes the white bandages would poke out from underneath her tank top. Her pain killers would kick in soon, and by the time she got to the concert she would be as good as golden.

She glanced back inside her room at the clock: 8:26pm. _John an' Wanda will be here soon. Can' wait for Logan ta catch meh here. Time ta make mah escape_. Rogue snatched up the manila envelope sitting on her bed and secured it in her boot. Rogue again stood out on her balcony and took a deep breath despite the stinging. After exhaling, a gloved right hand braced itself against the balcony railing and a black boot secured itself on the same railing. Pushing off the balcony, Rogue's legs flew over into the air, followed by the rest of her body. Her toes made contact with the ground first, then her weight rolled back onto the balls of her feet then heels. Simultaneously her knees and leg muscles contracted and extended into a grande plie, and her good hand felt for the ground for balance. An unsuppressed grimace came across her face after her left knee hit her slinged arm. Rogue bit her lip so she wouldn't cry out.

_Ah've spent too much time here_. Rogue took another deep breath, then sprinted from her position to the grove of trees that followed the wall of the institute grounds. She knew of one elm near the gate that was extremely easy to climb and conveniently had a strong branch that extended over the brick encasement. On the other side John and Wanda would be waiting for her. Rogue didn't pause or cover her tracks as she ran toward the tree. When she got to the tree she did not climb it. Instead she walked past it to the iron gates of Xavier's School for the Gifted. She picked a spot and leaned her back against the bars and waited

Two minutes and forty-two seconds later a stocky man with unruly black hair dropped from a tree, right in front of the escapee.

"Took ya long enough." Rogue pushed herself off the iron gate, standing straight up.

"Stripes," Logan said. "You didn't really think that stuffing your bed would fool me?"

"Ah knew it wouldn' at first," Rogue bent down and pulled out the manila envelope from her boot. "But Ah hoped after ya saw this it would."

Logan scrutinized her, wondering what had gotten into her. "You tryin' to blackmail me?"

"No, Ah'm tryin' ta bribe ya." Rogue paused for a moment. "What have ya done lately that's blackmail worthy?"

If Logan was any other man he would have blushed or sheepishly avoided her eyes, but, since he wasn't, he just crossed his arms. "Come on, kid, let's go back to the mansion."

"No!" Rogue objected. "Ah can't stand it anymore! Ah feel like ah'm suffocating in that house all day."

"Look," Logan laid down the law. "You're grounded. Being grounded is a lame punishment, but in some cases it prevents kids from doing stupid stuff like going out with a man you hardly know after curfew and not tell anyone. You did the deed, you do the time."

"Bein' grounded is one thing, but bein' grounded in that house with hormonal teenage mutants an' Jean an' Scott is another thing." Rogue pleaded her case. "They are drivin' meh insane! Please, just one night out. Ah bought these tickets way before ah ever got grounded. Ah just wanna enjoy one night of teenage normalcy before ah have ta go back ta disrupting Ray's plots ta steal mine an' Kitty's underwear an' Kurt bamfin' inta the bathroom without knockin' first an' walkin' inta the room Bobby turned inta an ice skatin' rink. Not ta mention Jean's constant nosing inta mah life. Please!"

Logan looked like he actually considered it for a second. She's gone through hell the past few days and didn't get a relief when she comes home. Logan can at least take off every few nights to get away from madhouse. But Logan is not a soft man. "Sorry Stripes, you have my sympathy but I can't let you go. You just got the crap beat out of you yesterday, you should be recuperating."

"Ah rested all day. At least until the Newbies came home an' Sam keep blastin' off an' vibratin' the mansion, 'cause Roberto keep sneakin' up on 'im an' scarin' 'im." Rogue reissued her plee."Just pretend that ah'm really up in mah bed. It certainly looks it. If ya don' ah guess ah'll have ta give this back ta its original owner." Rogue took out the photo of the Technicolor Sabertooth with his lucky charms from the envelope and waved it in front of Logan.

The Canadian was skeptical. "Did you have Kitty doctor that up on her computer for you?"

"No, it's genuine." Rogue let him take a closer look.

Logan stared at it in dark. Then he sighed. "Sorry kid, you have to come back to the mansion with me." He handed the photograph back to Rogue.

Rogue knew she couldn't just take off. Even if she could escape Logan with her gimp body, she would have to come back to the mansion eventually and be punished yet again. _Dammit! Mah plan was good. Damn Logan and his sense of honest dealings. Now what am ah gonna do?_ Rogue hung her head and Logan followed her up to the mansion doors.

* * *

"Yes!" Kitty did a little jig in their shared room. "What in the world am I going to do with thirty dollars!"

Rogue buried her head in her pillow, trying to ignore Kitty's enthusiasm.

Just then the phone rang. The excited Kitty dove for it.

"Hello," she said cheerfully. Then she grew a little self conscious, "Hi, Piotr. How are you?" The brunette hopped on her bed and prepared for a long conversation.

After two minutes Rogue was sick of the giggling, "Would ya PLEASE take it outside?! Some people are tryin' ta sleep here!"

"Okay," Kitty put her hand over the receiver. "You don't have to, like, jump down my throat or anything." Kitty put on some slippers and took the cordless out into the hallway, shutting off the lights on her way out.

Rogue let out a sigh. She was so sure her plan would work. She glanced at where she put the manila envelope. It was gone.

"What are you still doin' here, Stripes?" Logan with the manila envelope in his hand was smoking in the door way of her balcony. "Figured you would have tried to make a break for it again."

Rogue, after she shut her gapping mouth, leapt up with a new found energy and started restuffing her bed hastily.

The Canadian took the photo out and looked at it. "He's gonna be there, isn't he?" Logan asked Rogue.

"Who? Sabertooth?" Rogue asked after she noticed he was looking at the photo.

"No, Gumbo. The guy who got you this picture," said Logan. He figured only one of Magneto's men could have taken the picture, and Remy was the most likely candidate.

"No, Remy doesn' even have tickets. Wanda will be there." Rogue was not about to correct him: Remy didn't give her the photo, St. John did. And she left out the part about John being there too. She figured she was still under suspicion for personally knowing two of the three new Acolytes, better not boil the hot water she was already in. Rogue then fingered the extra ticket in her sling. "And Risty is suppose ta come." _He doesn't know she hasn't been back since summer break.  
_

"Yeah, right," Logan said skeptically. Rogue finished up her bed and walked out onto the balcony to make her second escape. "Just one condition." Logan stopped her before she jumped. "Touch me." Logan held out his bare hand.

"No, Logan, ah'm fine. Pain killers kickin' in quite nicely." She turned back to the edge.

"I can't let you go without bein' able to defend yourself in case those bozos find you again. Besides you have to be able to beat off slimy Cajuns," Logan said with a small smile.

"As far as ah know, he won' be there, Logan," Rogue repeated.

"But you wouldn't be surprised if he shows up," Logan predicted. "Touch me and I won't go catch you again."

Rogue knew her ride would be taking off soon, she didn't have any time to argue the issue. "Fine. But remember that this was your idea." She struggled to take off her right glove with her slinged arm. Eventually she gave up and grabbed Logan's hand and put it on her bare shoulder. After a few seconds she lifted his hand off again. Logan was still conscious, just sat down to recover himself. The burning in Rogue's chest stopped, her arm wasn't sore, and she bet her eye wasn't swollen anymore. Rogue ripped off her sling and bandages and shoved them into the top drawer of her dresser. _Gotta keep up the charade for a couple more days so no one finds out about this._

Rogue waved to Logan before she leapt off the balcony and made her escape. This time without biting her tongue.

In no time Rogue was crawling out onto the limb to her freedom. Surprisingly Wanda and John were still there.

"Took you long enough!" the Australian called out his window. Then he noticed the lack of bruises and bandages. "I thought you were beat to a pulp yesterday?"

"Logan decided ta give meh a little going away present," Rogue announced as she climbed in. "Step on it, bub."

* * *

A/N: Look at that! A new chapter less than two weeks later!!! That's a record for me! But don't get used to it.

**Next chapter: **Meet the Dazzlers, more Romy-ness (you had to guess he'd sneak into the show), how does Wanda react when someone shamelessly flirts with John? And you'll never guess who else comes to the concert to spy on our favorite couples!


	16. Are you my dentist or my bartender?

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_thoughts_  
**telepathy**

* * *

**A/N**: I had a little trouble writing dialogue when more that three people were in the picture. Sometimes there are two conversations going on at once. I put horizontal lines around side conversation and the conversation before the lines sometimes picked up immediately after the side conversation.

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Sixteen - Are you my dentist or my bartender?**

"Hey, Dante (1)," the big burly bouncer with the small 'fro greeted the former New Jersey native he just let by the door. "Aren't you a little late?"

"No," Dante grumbled. "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" Dante went on and on and on.

The bouncer quickly got fed up with his whining and waved goodbye to signify the end of the conversation. Dante turned and head into the Neptune Night Club.

"I feel like a bloody piker." St. John Allerdyce looked down at his ensemble of jeans, a denim jacket, and a worn, bright yellow Dungeons and Dragons cartoon tee, then around at the various shades of black everyone else was donning.

"Stop whining," his date Wanda Maximoff requested. "You're almost as bad as that bartender trying to get in."

"But at least I can whine in a cute accent." John reveled in Wanda's comment she made earlier in the day.

"You are never going to let that go, will you?" the witch asked irritated.

"Didn't plan on it."

"That is what ya get for givin' him a compliment," Rogue told her friend.

"I'll never make that mistake again," Wanda responded as the three entered the club.

A ruckus was starting at the back of the line to the Neptune Night Club. The bouncer halted the line and stormed back to the disturbance. "What's going on here?" he rested his hand on the troublemaker's shoulder and was surprised to see Dante.

"Thank goodness," Dante said. "These people wouldn't believe me that I worked here and needed to get back inside."

The bouncer was confused. "But I let you in five minutes ago."

"I know, but just my luck I go ahead and forget my bartending license and the big bossman is here tonight," Dante explained. "I had to run back to my car and get it."

The bouncer nodded and led the way back up to the front of the line. Something didn't feel right, but he let Dante in anyway. A few seconds later it hit him: Since when did Dante have a car?

* * *

The bartender walked into the club and observed his surroundings. Mostly women there tonight, but everyone was dressed in dark clothes and spiked jewelry. Not to mention all the piercings, and those are just the visible ones. If this didn't look like this practically every Tuesday night, nicknamed Freak Night, he might have been terrified. Usually they just played alternative, hard rock, or electronica music but tonight was a special night. It was the night Kittie came to town. Unbeknownst to the rest of the population, another presence had also just arrived in Bayville.

Dante saw the bar to his right, but instead turned left. Determinedly, the bartender walked into the men's bathroom, just to make sure there were no dead, old men in there (2).

* * *

"You go on backstage, luv," St. John shouted above the music to Wanda. "I have to visit the privy."

"The what?" she called back.

"The toilet! I have to use the toilet!" John happened to shout as the Dazzlers ended their first song. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stared at the Australian, who smiled and thought about pulling out his lighter and doing a little show since he had the audience's attention. But soon everyone went back to their own business and the band started up again.

Wanda and John split up. John didn't care for the song the band was playing so he started whistling his own tune. John pushed open the swinging door to the men's restroom only to have it stop only a quarter of the way. He backed up.

A girl with black and violet hair all parted to one side, a red camisole top and tights, a black mini skirt and combat boots threw open the door and glared at him. John gapped at her, not being able to comprehend why a woman was coming out of the men's room.

"The line was too long in the other," the girl commented in a British accent as she pushed past him. Eventually John shut his mouth and went in to finish was he went there to do.

* * *

Risty Wilde aka Mystique aka Raven Darkholme smiled broadly as she scanned the crowd. _I can't wait to see the look on Rogue's face when she sees me. First, I have to make up that time I was locked away in Area 51. Next I have to start planning how to get back at that tight ass Scott Summers for putting me there. _If she wasn't so excited to see her best friend/adopted daughter, she would have growled at the thought of Scott Summers. That and she was a little afraid that someone there might take a growl as a turn on.

Risty finally caught sight of her two-tone haired friend sitting at a table in the back, alone. In her hand, Rogue was fingering one unused ticket and thinking, _I should have given this ticket to someone, Remy maybe. But it just didn't feel right. It was Risty's ticket, to give it to Remy felt like sacrilege. _Rogue openly sighed. Then she felt a presence behind her. _Risty?_ She thought as she expectantly turned around in her chair. Instead of her purple haired punk friend she saw a brown haired man with sunglasses and a trench coat.

"Evening, chere," Remy LeBeau greeted his friend. "Dis seat taken?" Remy indicated the chair to her left. Rogue shook her head and smiled as Remy took a seat.

Risty's smile dripped off her face. She saw the whole scene including Rogue's positive reaction to the Cajun's presence. Mystique recognized Gambit, knew his reputation and his past, and she was not one bit pleased that he and Rogue were socializing. _I must be missing something. I have to get a closer look_. Mystique knew that she could not do so in her Risty form, so she made her way to the dance floor first. To the casual observer Risty was dancing up a storm, but when the lights were dim or black out, her features would change ever so slightly. Fuller lips, higher cheekbones, rounder eyes, different nose. The grand finale was when she bent over, then rolled her body upwards while running her hand through her hair transforming the unusual violet and black hair into black dreads. Once finished Mystique glided off the dance floor and took a seat at the bar within ear and eye-shot of Rogue and Remy.

"How in the world did ya get in here, Remy?" she asked her companion. "The show has been sold out for months."

"I should be askin' you dat question," Remy responded. "Aren' you suppose to be grounded? And what happened to d'ose broken ribs and sprained wrist?"

"It's amazin' what ya can get for a picture o' someone's arch nemesis with multicolored fur," she smirked.

Remy shakes his head. "De Wolvie's gettin' soft in his old age."

"He just wanted ta make sure ah could beat up any slimy Cajuns ah happened to run into." Rogue took a sip of her Coca Cola. "How did ya happen ta get in here again?"

"Don' ya like me here?" Remy answered with a question.

"So far ah don't mind, but Ah'm sure ya'll piss meh off soon enough, and Ah'll be glad Logan gave meh his powers," Rogue replied. "Now are ya gonna answer mah question, o' ya gonna be all mysterious an' annoyin'?"

Remy sighed. "Fine, if it's really bothering you. See d'ose girls up there?" Remy pointed to the band on stage. The lead singer was pelting her lyrics from her chocolate colored lips into the microphone with a swing as she strummed a G7 cord on her electric guitar. To her right was a girl a bowl cut of thick, glittery black hair jamming on a keyboard. To the lead's left were a brass and woodwind player challenging each other. The woodwind player currently fingered a tenor saxophone and her bright green hair swayed with the beat. The brass player was putting her all into her trumpet as the climax of the song hit, her thin face expanding to impressive limits. Behind them was a Native American girl with two thick black braids underneath her black beret, who plucked the deep notes out of her upright bass. Then next to the bass player was bald, tattooed drummer, who had just tossed her drumsticks up into the air and caught them in a measure of rest. Their band put on a pretty good show and even had their own pyrotechnics and special lighting.

"Yeah, they're the Dazzlers, so? " Rogue said. The band onstage had a dark, jazzy rock sound, cross between Queens of the Stone Age and Fiona Apple.

Remy leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "You be lookin' at the man who brought d'em together." Rogue raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Just wait one minute an' I'll prove it to you," Remy said. They both sat and listened to the rest of the song.

"Thanks for comin'!" Allison Blaire shouted into her microphone before taking a swig of her water. She set down her guitar and poured a little of the cool liquid over her head and it fell to her milky brown scalp between her Jada Pinkett-Smith pin-curl style hair. "It's great ta be here playin' for ya here tonight. We don' make it up North too often, bein' from New Orleans an' all, but we have received de greatest hospitality here from you Yanks. Now, this next song we haven' sung since the first days o' the band, but tonight is very special. Our brass player here, your very own Trish Tilby is leavin' us ta pursue a career that actually utilizes her degree in journalism. Ya're looking at the next Channel One reporter! Yes, all o' you who are still in high school will be forced ta watch her every day. We're all real sad an' a little bitter ta have ta let her go, but that's how things go sometimes. 'Sides I'm gonna win what is beginning ta be a pretty large pot if she gets kicked outta more countries than Lisa Ling. We're all gonna miss ya Trish," the other band members agreed. Allison continued, "This is especially hard fo' me, since we've been best friends since grade school an' started the band together. Which reminds me . . . there is someone in the audience who I would like ta acknowledge. Remy," Ally called out. "Stand up, Remy."

Rogue's mouth gapped open when Remy stood up a green spotlight shown on their table. Remy grinned and waved to Ally. "Told ya I knew d'em," he told Rogue.

"Hi Remy!" Allison greeted. "This is the boy who brought us all together. We were all goo-goo over him, even Lila and Amelia back in the day, but he was a big tease. In order ta get us ta stop our separate ventures o' spyin' on his fiancé an' tellin' him how bad an' disloyal she was, he lured everyone ta Trish an' mine storage unit we practiced in, an' the rest is history." Ally finished her story and Remy sat back down. Then Allison added, "And so is his fiancé. But beware girls, from what I hear." She winked her eye with the tattooed electric blue eight-point star over it at The Rogue. "He's as good as taken. In fact, before the show, he was on the phone with me for_ two hours_, convincin' me ta give him a ticket so he could surprise her -"

"Hey," Remy called to Ally. "Ya promised ya wouldn't say anythin' 'bout d'at!"

"I lied," she shrugged and giggled.

"Don' you have a song ta play or somethin'?" Remy reminded the band.

"I enjoy this much more." A mischievous smile crossed Ally's lips.

"Since we're reminiscin'-" Remy cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. "I'd like ta tell you all about Daz's disco phase -"

"I guess I'll just have ta tease ya more after the show," Ally interrupted him and the spotlight when back onstage. Ally picked her guitar and looked around to see that Lorna Dane had already switched from her normal instruments to maracas and a cabasa and had other miscellaneous percussion instruments including a djembes set out around her, and Patricia 'Trish' Tilby was on electric guitar. "Hey, girls, yal ready? Okay guys, this song is a cover called 'Girl from Ipanema.'" The song was played at least two and a half times its normal tempo and the electric guitars definitely made it an original cover that could not be classified anywhere near its original jazz genre.

Remy took his eyes offstage and looked back at the girl sitting next to him. She just shook her head and took a drink. "What?" he asked.

"Ah'm surprised, that's all," she said.

"Surprised I know d'em?" Remy asked for clarification.

"No, surprised that so many girls would be crawlin' over an egotistical tease like you," Rogue confessed.

"Oui." Remy leaned back and opened up his chest. "D'ey all want a piece of LeBeau."

"Yeah, an' you're 'bout ta add one more ta the list o' those who want you in pieces." Rogue choked on Remy's ego.

"Well, d'ere are few who can handle the whole me." Remy smiled and leaned over the table toward Rogue, putting his head in his cupped hand.

Rogue scooted her chair back to compensate for the invasion of her enormous personal space bubble. "You're tellin' meh? Ah can hardly stand the 'whole you.'"

"You know you like havin' me around," Remy said confidently.

"Where did ya get that idea?"

"Dis morning, on the phone (3)."

"Shit, that's right. Damn pain killers," Rogue muttered.

The Cajun decided to change the subject. He stood up and offered Rogue his hand. "You wanna dance?"

"No," came the short response.

"Come on." He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her up. "It'll be fun."

"No, Remy," Rogue resisted. "Ah'm not totally covered tonight."

"I noticed." He winked at her and received a death glare in return. "We'll stay near de back. Live a little. Open up."

Rogue's ears perked up at the word open. _Isn't that what one of the penguins said? Open. Look at meh, since when do ah believe in subconscious messages in my dreams? But it is a little weird. Especially since we'd be dancin' like we were in the dream. What would it hurt?_

The boy in the trench coat was surprised when Rogue stopped resisting. "All right, as long as we stay near the back." Then she added, "an' ya stop tryin' ta look down mah shirt."

"You're no fun," Remy pouted as he led her to an open space among the tables, in the opposite direction of the bar. But Mystique could still see them. They were waltzing at first, which was strange to watch because the music was in 4/4 time. Then Rogue let out a laugh, probably to Remy's confession that the waltz was the only dance he knew (4). The two were just swaying to the same tempo for the rest of the set, whispering to each other. Mystique saw Remy's hand slide down from the small of Rogue's back to her buttocks. She almost burst off her stool, morphed into the Hulk and started ripping Remy's limbs off, but Rogue took care of the problem by pushing him away. Mystique was proud for a second, but when Rogue allowed the Cajun to continue dancing with her, Mystique almost pulled her hair out. At last the music ended and Remy and Rogue started to return to their table near the bar.

* * *

A low screeching noise met Dante's ears. First he thought it was just feedback from a guitar, but a glance at the stage told him otherwise as it was empty. He turned his head, trying to locate the direction of the source. After his ears found it, his eyes zoned in.

The beautiful woman with the black dreads with her third empty tumbler of Jameson in her right hand was emulating the painful noise.

Dante walked over to her while he was wiping out another tumbler. He leaned his elbow on the bar in front of her but she didn't notice him. She was looking a nearby table. The grinding noise continued. "You know you really shouldn't do that; it's bad for your teeth," the bartender commented.

Mystique stopped grinding her teeth and slowly turned her head to look at the bartender. Dante's eyes met the wild, crazed eyes of the shape shifter. Neither of them moved for about thirty seconds. Then, quicker than lightning, Mystique's hands shot forth and grabbed Dante's shirt and yanked him within centimeters of her snarling fangs. "Are you my dentist or my bartender?" she said in a low, raspy, yet threatening voice.

"Uh…bartender?" Dante squeaked in response.

"Then concern yourself with my empty glass, not my orthodenture," she growled and threw him back into the island of the bar, causing a few bottles to fall over, but luckily no breaks.

Dante hurriedly put some ice in the tumbler he had just wiped out and filled it with more whiskey. He slid it down the bar to Mystique from where she threw him, being a little to frightened to come within arms distance again.

* * *

At the end of the last song, Remy and Rogue walked back over to their table near the bar. Remy pulled out a chair for Rogue, who looked at him, then sat in a different chair to spite him.

Remy rolled his eyes and sat down in the chair he pulled out. "It's because of women like you dat chivalry is dead."

"No, it's chivalry comin' from a guys like you that throws suspicion on the whole practice," Rogue retorted.

"Moi?" Remy put on what he thought was his innocent face. Remy was about to send the banter back to Rogue but someone came up behind him and put her hands over his sunglasses.

"Guess who, Remy LeBeau?"

"I don' know." Remy stroked his goatee pretending to think. "Maybe a girl who once paraded around New Orleans in silver glittery jumpsuits an' roller skates an' had to turn sideways to get her afro d'rough da door."

Allison Blaire took her hands off Remy's face and smacked him in the back of the head. "You're still a jerk, Remy."

"But at least I'm a good looking one, eh?"

Ally pulled out the chair on the other side of Remy and sat down. "So, how have ya been?"

Rogue was not especially pleased. _Hey, girlie, ah'm sittin' here, too. Just because ya still have a crush on Remy doesn't mean ya get ta ignore meh. Great, now ah get ta sit here an' play third wheel while they "reminisce." Not only that but ah haveta listen to this beautiful rock star sit here an' ramble on, an' watch her be all over Remy. Well, not quite all over, but she is "accidentally" brushing her hand up against him a lot an' makin' up excuses to touch him. Ah should just leave these two alone an' go find Wanda. But then ah'll just be a third wheel ta their party. So ah guess ah'm left with the sit, pout, and be miserable option._

Mid-conversation Ally remembered Rogue was also at the table. "Oh, I'm Allison Blaire, an' ya must be the infamous Rogue." Ally stretched out her hand.

Rogue looked at Ally's hand but did not take it. "Yah, that's meh."

A scowl formed on Ally's face and she sarcastically commented, "I can see why ya like her, Remy. She's very pleasant."

"Only after it takes five minutes for someone ta climb down off their high horse an' mingle with the commoners." Rogue's fake smile sent shivers down Ally's spine.

"Well, if Mr. Manners had introduced ya at the beginnin', I wouldn' have been waitin' fo' him ta do it." Ally turned the blame to Remy.

"Ah don't recall Miss Star Power leavin' a pause in her ramblings big enough for an introduction." Rogue blame shifted. The two started glaring at each other.

Remy was a little confused and frightened being between these two who seemed to be battling in glare wars. _I d'ought dey would get along. Dey have some things in common: Music, Anne Rice, de south, dey both pick on me… How could things go so wrong? Women, heh! _He then saw John and Wanda approaching the table. "Drink, I need a drink. You want a drink, chere? Petite?" Remy addressed Rogue and Ally respectively as he stood up. They placed orders with Remy, which caused a cease-fire in the glare wars. As Remy walked around the table he grabbed John and Wanda and whispered, "Don' let those two tear each other apart while I'm gone. Don' let them talk to each other if dat's possible."

A bewildered John and Wanda were released from Remy's grasp and allowed to finally reach the table. "You missed out by giving John those backstage passes," Wanda told Rogue as she sat down next to John.

"If ya still want ta get backstage, I can take ya back." Ally offered as some sort of peace offering although she didn't know why Rogue was mad at her to begin with.

"If ah wanted ta go backstage Ah wouldn't have given away mah passes." Rogue stated the obvious.

_Ouch_, John thought. "I'm John, this is Wanda," John introduced himself to Ally.

"Allison Blaire." This time she was able to shake hands with both of them.

Silent entered the table once more. John coughed. "So, that was a pretty nice light show -" John tried to start up some conversation.

"Thanks," she smiled proudly. Then Ally squinted her eyes and leaned across the table. "Ya guys are, how do I put this? Ya've seen Remy without his sunglasses on, right?" They all nodded. "Great, guess what?" Without waiting for a response Ally continued, "That light show was all me. I can convert sound into light."

_Huh, she's a mutant,too, _Rogue thought. _A mutant with cool powers that she can control._ _Powers that make her a better rock star. Powers doesn't have worry about killing people with._

"Stop bragging, Ally," chided Danielle Moonstar as she and Trish Tilby approached the table. "Just 'cause you can use your powers during a show and not send everyone screaming from the club, doesn't mean you can be a show off." Trish sat down next to Ally, but Dani stood behind them as the rest of the chairs were occupied.

"Are ya all mutants then?" Rogue asked the implied statement.

"Everyone but me." Trish waved her hand. "But ya never know. They could replace with me with one and then have an all girl mutant rock band."

"Ya are not talking 'bout that Sally 'Skids' chick are ya?" Ally asked her best friend. "That suburban wannabe?"

"She could play, Al, that's all I'm sayin'," Trish told her.

"She was so full of herself," Ally argued.

"She knew she was good," the human defended the musician.

"Yeah, an' she thoroughly pissed me off." Ally ended the argument.

"That's not hard ta do," Rogue said under her breath hoping to stir the ashes of their abhorrence, but Remy had come back with their drinks just then.

"What's dis I hear about an all mutant rock band?" Remy asked the three Dazzlers. "You all coming out of de gene closet, finally?"

"I'm gonna go get some signatures for the mailing list," Dani didn't want to hear this argument again, and she was sucked into the crowd of fans waiting for Kittie.

"No," Ally corrected him. "We're still recovering from Lila and Amelia coming out as a couple. Like ya should talk, Remy." Ally tapped the side of his sunglasses so they would fall down his nose. "Ya still hide."

"Dis is different." Remy put his sunglasses back over his eyes. "Your powers don' have people thrown crosses at you an' callin' you the devil."

"Don't they?" Ally questioned. "Every mutant is considered a demon by some people."

"I'm not," John spoke up. "I'm considered a fire hazard." John struck a match and sent the flame hula dancing across the table.

"Knock it off, John," Wanda told him. "I don't want the Neptune to become number, what? Nine of the businesses in Bayville I'm blacklisted on."

John did as he was told and dissipated the hula girl. "Goodbye, my beauty."

Wanda rolled her eyes at the melodrama. "If you'd rather date the hula girl, that's fine by me."

John contemplated for a second. "No, I think I'd prefer to date you. She wasn't much of a conversationalist."

"You have some strange friends," Ally said then knocked Remy's glasses down his nose again.

_Now that was unnecessary. She's just flirting now. *grrr* 'sides she could do so much for the mutant community by goin' public. _"Lesbianism isn't a big deal now, especially with the crowd ya play for. Why not come out now an' get one big lump of publicity?" Rogue pushed Ally.

"Did ya know we were banned from playing at five venues 'cause of the little gay issue? Like ya would know anythin' about goin' public," Ally shot at Rogue.

"Actually ah was 'outted' over six months ago on national television after which ah was imprisoned, mah home destroyed, received threatening phone calls, been attacked an' beaten… Would ya like meh to continue?" Rogue asked.

Ally's face grew hot. "And that's exactly why we can't go public. Too much negative publicity equals no fans equals no money equals no band an' that's if we could actually find venues ta book us."

* * *

"Wanna take bets on how long it will take for Remy to get so frightened by the girls surrounding him that he'll just jump up and run away?" John whispered to Wanda.

"That's something you would do," Wanda responded. "Remy would more likely order drinks until either he or they are too drunk to care."

"Is it a bet then?" John asked.

"Haven't you learned anything from our boxers or briefs game?" asked Wanda. John responded with a blank look. "Sure, okay."

Trish Tilby leaned over toward the couple. "Can I get in on this action?"

* * *

Back to the other conversation at the table:

"Do ya have any idea about how many young mutants ya could help by just goin' public?" Rogue asked. "Ya could inspire them, make them not feel alone anymore." Rogue remembered how frightened and alone she felt when she first developed her powers. Granted she was being chased by Mystique and having exploding things thrown at her, but she still felt alone until she arrived at the Brotherhood house. After that she still felt alone as a person, but not as a mutant, if that makes any sense. "What's more important: Bein' a successful band or working toward equality and acceptance, bein' a role model?"

"Can't really inspire them or be a role model if we can't find a place ta play, if we aren't a band anymore," Ally responded to Rogue's question.

"Sebastian Shaw and Warren Worthington's clubs would let us in," Trish spoke up.

"I'm not sure how much longer our manager can stand Shaw, and I only started datin' Warren, Trish. I wouldn't want to impose somethin' like that on 'em," Ally told her friend.

_Okay, perfect looks, perfect powers, perfect job, perfect boyfriend. This girl getting' up there with Jean on my annoyin' list._ "Really? You're datin' Warren Worthington the Third?" Rogue questioned skeptically (5).

"Yeah, really. What's it ta you?"

"Nothing, Ah thought he had more class than that," Rogue crossed the line.

Ally bit her lip to keep herself from yelling at the Goth sitting at the table. "You probably have never met Warren."

"Actually, Ah helped save his life last Christmas when someone was tryin' to kidnap him," Rogue boasted.

"Oh, I see. You have some sort of schoolgirl crush on him, don't you?"

"Yah, ya got meh," Rogue said sarcastically. "Ah stole some of his feathers and keep them in a locked box by mah bed."

* * *

Dante noticed that the crazy women with dreads had an empty glass again. He grabbed a new bottle of Jameson (she finished off the other one) and cautiously approached her.

"Would you like another?" he asked in what he thought was his most calming voice.

Mystique's head jerked from watching Rogue and Allison argue about Warren Worthington, who she considered much more worthy of Rogue, toward the bartender. _My god, can this bartender get anymore whiney and annoying?!_ "WHAT?!" she barked.

Dante jumped back out of arms length with a terrified look on his face. Mystique couldn't help but smile.

"Uh, more whiskey?" he sputtered out nervously.

Mystique pushed her empty glass toward him and turned her attention back toward the other table.

* * *

"I d'ought you kept the chalk I gave you by your bed?" Remy was getting a little jealous that they were now arguing over Big Bird.

Unable to hold her bladder any longer, Wanda stood up and headed toward the restrooms, leaving an open seat between John and Trish. "Tell me how it ends."

"Look at these lovely drinks I bought you." Remy pushed the warming glasses closer to their perspective owners to try and loosen the tension. "Granted you're has no alcohol in it, but, uh, just drink it," Remy told Rogue. The bet is leaning towards Wanda's prediction.

Ally set down her sex on the beach and took a closer look at Rogue. "Remy, how old is Rogue?"

_Again, talkin' like ah ain't here_, Rogue thought.

"Uh…seventeen," he mumbled under his breath and quickly took another sip.

"Remy!" Ally exclaimed. "You're datin' a child!"

"She is not, Ally. Although you couldn' tell by de way both of you have been actin'. Will you two please stop it with this bickerin'. It's really pissing me off."

* * *

"Pay up, fire hazard." A transaction was made at the other end of the table. "Told ya, Remy could only take so much cat fightin' without a mud pit nearby."

* * *

"Ah know how ta solve that bickerin' problem." Rogue started to pull off a glove and smiled mischievously. "Truce?" Rogue stuck out her bare hand for Ally to shake.

Before Ally could take ahold, Remy grabbed a napkin and pulled Rogue's bare hand back. "No, Rogue," Remy scolded, "be good." Rogue sighed and pulled her glove back on.

"Hey, Handsome." The green-haired sax player smiled at John. She pulled out Wanda's vacant chair. "Anyone sitting here?"

"No, yes, my date in fact," John stammered as Lorna sat down anyway.

"Too bad, her loss." The band member shrugged.

Remy interrupted, "Hey Lorna, this is John, and this is Rogue, Rogue, John, Lorna." Remy was thankful for the new addition to the table that would hopefully relieve some of the tension between Rogue and Ally. Then he remembered that it was Lorna who sat down. _Shit_. Remy's head fell into his hand.

With her eyes never leaving the pyromaniac, Lorna asked, "Hey Remy, where did you find your adorable friend here?" Lorna scooted her chair a little closer to John.

"Tryin' to dig his way out of juvie wit' a bottle cap," the Cajun confessed truthfully. Everyone laughed.

"Hey, I went through a lot to get that bottle cap. All I needed was a little time and pressure, and in another ten years or so and I'd be dancing in the rain, smelling like sewage with a bag of nice clothes tied to my foot." John defended himself.

"You were gettin' out in a week." Remy flawed his story.

"It's the principal of the thing." John sat up straighter. "I was convicted of a crime I did not commit and was being forced to do the Warden's taxes!"

"No, that was Tim Robbins in Shawshank Redemption," Trish pointed out.

"I'd hate to see dat Warden's tax return," Remy said.

"Okay, I was just bored. But I did spook the guards pretty good by hiding behind my Cindy Crawford poster and laughing in ten minute intervals after lights out," John confessed.

"I'm surprised they didn't put ya in the mental ward," Ally commented.

"That's where I got them in a catch-22." John leaned toward the center of the table as if he was divulging a secret. "I told them I was crazy. Get it?"

The blank looks at the rest of the table told him otherwise. So John continued to explain himself, "A crazy person can't tell if he's crazy or not. If someone says he himself is crazy then he must be sane, because only a sane person would know what crazy was. A crazy person thinks he is sane, but he is really crazy. Therefore a crazy person would never claim he was crazy, he would say that he was sane which makes him crazy. So I told them I was crazy." Then John laughed maniacally at himself (6)

The crowd's facial expressions revealed more confused than before, except for Lorna, who only had one thing on her mind.

The green-haired musician put her hand on John's shoulder and smiled. "You are so smart!"

Rogue spit out the coke she was attempting to swallow across the table.

"The soda is supposed ta go in your mouth," Ally smartly remarked.

Remy glared at both of them to knock it off as he grabbed some napkins to help Rogue mop up the pop. Rogue waited until Remy's back was turned then gave Ally the finger.

"You're accent is delicious, where are you from?" Lorna's hand slid from his shoulder to his lower arm, which freaked John-boy out.

"Lorna." Trish tapped her friend on the shoulder. "Ya should probably knock it off. He's girlfriend's going ta be comin' back soon."

"Since when has a girlfriend ever stopped me from getting what I want? Remember Vegas?" Lorna put some loose strands of hair that had fallen out of her cornrows behind her ear.

"Ya should set your sights on someone else tonight, I'm tellin' ya." Trish gave Lorna her final warning before she slid her chair back and stood up. "It's been good seeing ya Remy, find me an' say goodbye before ya leave. I better go mingle and sell some CD's."

"So, John," Lorna turned her attention back to the pyromaniac and leaned in closer. "Where are you from?"

John gulped at her closeness. "A.. A.. Australia." _Just a couple days ago wasn't I wondering why women don't find me attractive? Now this green hair Sheila is all over me and all I want is the girl in the bathroom. Don't get me wrong, if I could have both, that would be a dream but I have a feeling Wanda will pop my head off like a daisy when she gets back here._ John scooted his chair away from the sax player and closer to Rogue.

Lorna liked to see guys squirm and give into her so she followed suit, making small talk and sliding her chair closer to John. This went on until John was practically sitting on top of Rogue. John attempted to scoot once more only to accidentally elbow Rogue in the chest. John without thinking looked at her. Her glare made him shiver and he moved out of Rogue's personal space bubble. But his sudden movement to Lorna's direction caught her off guard and the top of her head met John's cheekbone. They both groaned.

Lorna laughed a little. "Are you okay?" she asked John who was rubbing his face.

"Yeah." John moved his jaw around, making sure it was still in place.

"Here, let me kiss it and make it better." Lorna moved in.

"Nope, all better." John pushed her away. "In perfect health, can't have you kissing it and making it even better in health. What would I do with an exceptionally healthy cheekbone? Its ego would just explode from all the praise and there would be no living with it."

"You're just being silly." Lorna, quick like a viper, kissed him on the cheek anyway. Exactly like in a soap opera, at that easily misinterpreted moment, Wanda returned from the bathroom.

"Women are way too high maintenance," she complained about the long line for the bathroom before she saw some green-haired bimbo kiss her date. Wanda's demeanor changed from irritation at the world to war. Lorna was still leaning over John when Wanda tapped her on the shoulder.

Annoyed Lorna turned her head toward the witch. "Yes?"

"You are in my seat," she replied through clenched teeth.

"That's nice, doll." Lorna continued flirting with John.

"I would like you to get out of my seat," Wanda said again again through clenched teeth.

"And if I don't?" The green-haired mutant figured she could easily put the girl out after she sized her up.

"Why don't you sit here, luv?" John interrupted and patted his lap. Wanda glared at him, still mad for the kiss earlier. Then she read his eyes: _Please_ _sit here and protect me from this slut_. Well, she added the slut part on. Wanda smiled victoriously at the fierce Lorna as she sat on John lap.

"So how long have you two been going out?" Lorna asked sat back in her seat.

"About a week," Wanda told her.

Lorna was surprised, they acted like they had been together a lot longer, but still being in ruthless mode said, "Your awfully possessive for only going out for a week. 'fraid someone's gonna steal him?"

"Lorna, shut up." Ally was getting sick of Lorna's "God's gift to men" attitude too.

"You should listen to Ally, Lorna." Remy nervously twitched from the bombardment of memories as a chimney sweep. "You don' want to be on Wanda's bad side."

"Oh please, my nickname's not Polaris for nothing," Lorna said confidently.

"What do you do?" Wanda asked. "Turn into a snowmobile so everyone can have a ride?"

Lorna's face first turned a complementary color to her hair, then she paled and smiled devilishly. "No, but I can certainly flatten you like road kill."

"I am shivering in my boots," said Wanda unemotionally.

Rogue this time tried to break it up. "Knock it off. Ah don't wanna get kicked outta here 'cause your insecure an' she's a slut."

Lorna sneered. "Little self-esteem problems, Red?" The sax player leaned back in her chair confidently.

Wanda was running out of insults, she had known this girl all of five minutes. So in desperation an icy blue glow formed around her right hand and traveled to the back two legs of Lorna's chair. The legs snapped and Polaris fell to the floor, right on her buttocks. "Little weight problem, Mossy?" the witch eluded to her green hair that was frizzing in the hot, humid club.

Lorna again became Christmas colors as she jumped up. "You'll regret that!" Wanda stood up from John's lap with two hands glowing.

Lorna's hands developed a green glow, matching her hair. Her left hand shot out behind her and the metal chair that Trish pushed away from the table started glowing green also and flew to the girl's open hand.

Meanwhile: "Fire in the hole!" Remy yelled and grabbed the arms of the two girls next to him and pulled them to the apparent safety underneath the table.

"Fire? Where?!" John excitedly yelled and looked around from his cowering location behind the chair he was previously sitting in.

Ally laughed. "Ya know Remy, I'm always up for new things, but a threesome underneath a club table with her is not one o' them." Ally pointed to Rogue. At the word threesome Rogue's eyes widened. She tried to stand up abruptly but ended up hitting her head on the underside of the table.

Ally backed out and started to stand only to have the first thing she saw being her drink and the others on the table starting to elevate and spin. She quickly ducked back underneath the table and yelled, "What the hell can she do?!"

The lack of the sound of breaking chairs and glasses brought Ally, Remy, and Rogue up from the table. Last time they looked, Lorna she was about to break a chair across Wanda's back. Now the green glow of Polaris had dissipated and a soft pink light emanated from her eyes. Wanda was ready to show her stuff and was caught off guard when Lorna put the chair down next to the table and sat in it. Wanda had already settled back onto John's lap despite the empty chairs nearby that she could have pulled near the table.

The immediate dangers having dispersed, Remy took to examining the spot on Rogue's head where she bumped it. Rogue would have none of it. She blocked his hands that were going to part her hair.

"Let me see it," Remy told her. "What is with you tonight? Let me see."

"Stop fussin' over meh," was her retort.

"Let me see if it's bleedin', okay?"

Rogue relented and her arms fell limply to her sides. "Fine."

Remy carefully parted her hair. "You're going to have one hell of a bump. You goinna let me put something on it?"

"Whatever, Dr. Lebeau." Rogue crossed her arms and sat down stubbornly. Remy pull his chair closer to hers and put his cold drink to the back of her head. He whispered something to hear that the author couldn't even hear, but it was enough to change her sour expression to a more lighthearted one as she playfully punched Remy in the stomach and laughed. The smile remained on her face for quite some time afterwards as they continued to tease each other.

* * *

*CRASH* A shattering of glass was heard throughout the bar. Dante looked at the bartenders and waitresses. They didn't appear to know where the sound came from either. On a hunch, the whiney bartender looked at the crazy woman in the dreads. Her hand had grasped her tumbler so tightly that she had broken the glass and whiskey was spilt all over the countertop.

Dante picked up a towel and headed over to her. "Maybe you should stick to teeth grinding," he commented.

Mystique lurched over the bar and attempted to expel her aggravations upon seeing Rogue flirt with the slimy Cajun by strangling that irritating bartender and doing everyone a favor. Unfortunately for her, the security didn't like that. It took four security guards and two bouncers to pry Mystique's fingers from around Dante's neck and haul her out to the alley.

* * *

A woman in a deep violet cloak and a man in his thirties dressed like he stepped out from a renaissance fair now approached the table. The man had dark hair drawn back into a pony tail and a well groomed beard. The face of the woman was hidden in the shadows of the hood of the cloak but a faint pink glow in the shape of a butterfly could be seen.

The woman turned to the man on her left. "Sebastian, could you please us some drinks at the bar?" Her thick English accent seemed to mesmerize him, or it could have just been that he knew what kind of body she was hiding underneath her cloak. The man did as she was told and the woman came to the table and stood behind Lorna who seemed catatonic in the chair.

"Bitch," Lorna said as she stared straight ahead.

The mystery woman pulled back the hood of her cloak to reveal a head of thick, wavy lavender hair which, for the most part, was tied up in a bun with chopsticks. "I cannot have you using mutant powers to wreak a gig. It's hard enough to pack a place since Lily and Amelia came out as lovers, this gig will go right down the shitter if they knew we were all mutants as well."

"I hate hiding who I am," Lorna said, her eyes still glowing pink and her body not under her control.

"You're not hiding yourself if you don't use your powers to start a fight. I suggest you control yourself. If you don't you'll have the pain of a hangover without the pleasure of being drunk." From the English manager's right hand a long pink dagger of energy appeared that matched the pink of her corset and long skirt then swelled threateningly and disappeared.

"Fine," Lorna grumbled. The cloaked woman released her telepathic grip and Lorna slumped in the chair, crossed her arms and pouted.

The telepath rolled her eyes. "Grow out of your diapers and go get some email addresses or sell some CD's. You can't let the others do all the work."

"What about Ally?" Lorna childishly.

"She'll be joining you in five minutes, baby Green," the psychic said. "Now go find some horny guys to buy you a drink. You'll feel better in no time."

Lorna got up from the table and walked out toward the crowd, making sure to bump the lavender and purple Englishwoman on her way out. The woman just sighed and shook her head as she sat down in Lorna's still warm seat.

"I think I'm more of a nanny than a manager sometimes," she stated. Shaw came back and set her drink down in front of her before pulling up another seat. "Thank god." The woman downed the mixed drink like a shot.

"Guys, this is our manager Elizabeth or Betsy Braddock and this is the owner of the club, Sebastian Shaw." Ally introduced each of the four to her manager and Shaw.

Surprisingly, Ally and Rogue were civil in the small talk conversation that followed. Then all of a sudden Betsy's face grew bitter as Shaw's hand had found it's way to her upper thigh. "Would you please get me another drink, luv?" Betsy interrupted the American Idol bashing conversation and smiled sweetly at Sebastian. Like a good little dog, he took her empty glass to the bar. Betsy shuddered as soon as his back was turned. "Bloody asshole. If he didn't own half the clubs on the New England coast he'd be unconscious, tied up, and shoved in a trunk somewhere. Of course, he'd probably think it was foreplay."

"That an' we have ta stay on his good side if our secret ever comes out," Ally added and took a drink.

"He doesn't seem like a mutant sympathizer to me," Wanda commented.

"That's because he's not a sympathizer," Betsy revealed. "He is a mutant. He's apart of this aristocratic mutant club too. Tried to get me to join. But 'unfortunately' with my busy schedule and traveling I could not commit." Betsy sat in thought for a minute. The Brit leaned across the table and said in a hushed tone, "Would you tattle if, after he comes back with my drink, I knock him out and tell him that he just passed out?" Everyone laughed and shock their heads.

"That would be great, Bets," Ally said between giggles. "But I have a feeling he might be suspicious since he's only had a couple of drinks."

"Bugger," Betsy muttered just before Shaw came back.

The small talk from before continued. The glasses were emptied, and Shaw rose from the table. "Elizabeth, my dear, we must set up some more dates for the Dazzlers New England tour. I also have a friend of mine on the West Coast I might be able to convince to host your band, and he should be in his office now."

Betsy, after sending a pleading look at the others at the table for a quick and sweet death, stood up from the table as well. "Ally, it's about time you got to work too. Pleasure meeting everyone." The manager smiled pleasantly and jokingly asked everyone telepathically at the table for a razor blade.

Ally continued to sit at the table for a few minutes, until she received a startling image of herself being abandoned in the Appalachian Mountains with a bunch of unwashed people claiming her as their slave and a radio which played only one song: the "" song by Alan Jackson. Ally stumbled out of her seat as she hastily stood up.

"Walk much?" Rogue asked.

"You'd be frightened too if ya just got the image o' yourself stuck out in the middle o' nowhere with only the "" song by Alan Jackson ta listen ta," Ally explained.

Rogue agreed with Ally. "Ah think ah'd cut off mah ears."

"It was great ta see ya Remy." Ally bent down to hug him while Rogue scowled. "It was a pleasure meetin' you two." Ally nodded to Wanda and John, who now sat in separate seats since John lost feeling in his left leg. "An' you I'm still not sure of." Ally gave Rogue a funny look. Since Betsy had sat down, they had been civil to each other and actually supported each other's arguments, but Ally wasn't sure if it was all natural or if Betsy had something to do with it. Betsy had never done anything like that before so, in conclusion, there was a big gray cloud over the whole thing.

"No one ever is," Rogue responded. "That's why they call meh The Rogue."

"I d'ought dat was 'cause you beat everyone up who called you by your real name," Remy provoked.

"No, Ah beat everyone up 'cause ah enjoy it." She smiled deviously.

Wanda broke in on their conversation. "Did she really tell you her name?"

"Sure," Remy stalled. "It's Gertrude."

"Of course it is Rembrandt Etienne LeBeau," Rogue rolled her eyes at Remy.

"Ooo, full-name action going on. Ya better behave Remy. Well, I better try an' get some gas money, bye everyone." Ally exited the scene.

After Ally left Remy set down his drink and turned to Rogue seriously. "What's your problem tonight?"

"Mah problem? It was her problem." Rogue blame shifted. "Ah don't like bein' ignored while she flirts with mah …" Rogue trailed off as she was about to make a declaration she was not comfortable making publicly or to herself even. To attempt to cover she started up again. "She's all high and mighty with her band and her perfect boyfriend, her perfect powers, her perfect life."

But it was too late, Remy had pretty much stopped listening after the 'mah.' "Your what, chere? I didn' catch dat."

Rogue growled slightly and looked around trying to come up with some noun. Then the lights went out and a guitar riff eliminated any other sound in the house as Kittie took the stage.

* * *

"Wow, that was amazin'." Rogue ran her hand through her hair as Remy, Wanda, John and herself exited the Neptune. All four walked toward the Acolyte vehicle with their ears ringing.

"I've seen better," Remy commented. "Sometime I'll have to take you to Ragtime, den you'll hear good music."

The four continued to talk about bands and music until they reached the vehicle. John, Wanda, and Rogue climbed in but Remy remained outside.

"Aren't ya comin', swamp rat?" Rogue shouted out the still open door.

"Non, de Wolvie's probably waitin' up for you and I don' want ta repeat our last encounter," Remy reasoned as he stepped up to the door but didn't get in. "I'll just stick around here wit the Dazzlers 'til John and Wanda come back. So -" he started and smiled. "You were jealous."

"Ah was not." Rogue crossed her arms and refused to look at the Cajun.

"You were so." Remy couldn't stop beaming. He was finally making an impact on The Rogue. Rogue remained stubborn and he decided not to push his luck. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Grounded," was the stubborn girl's answer.

"So I'll come see you," Remy answered for her.

"Yah, so ah can get another lecture from the Professor an' Jean an' Scott -"

"Oh, I get it. We have to keep 'Us' on the hush, hush. You're lucky I'm a t'ief," Remy said. "So when can I see you again? I got it I'll write a location and time on a card and put it under the bus seat 36 of the Route 4 bus, and we'll meet den. But if dat time doesn' work for you, you need to hang a gold flag in your window, and then -"

"Friday at work," Rogue said to shut him up. _The fool was letting too much cold air in_. "And there is no 'Us,'" she quickly added, pushed Remy out of the way of the door and slammed it.

* * *

Remy started to walk back toward the club. As he passed a dark ally, a voice called out, "Stay away from Rogue."

The Cajun in the trench coat looked up and down the ally, but all he could see was two yellow eyes. "Who's d'ere? Nevermind, I don' care. I do what I want, wit who I want. Never good at taken orders." Remy took a couple of steps down the ally.

"You will do as I say." Mystique came into view sitting elegantly on some crates.

"Let me d'ink about it." Remy stroked his goatee. "How about no. Mystique, non? I see you're not a lab rat anymore. Someone left the cage unlocked or did dey just get sick of you trying to order dem around?"

"I wouldn't take my threats lightly, boy." She jumped down and came toward him until she was a few inches from his face. "I know secrets; I have connections. I can make your worst nightmare come true."

"You're going to blind me and leave me in the desert surrounded by naked playboy models?"

"No," _but that's a good idea. Blind in a desert, perfect._ "But I do know your work history." Mystique turned and started to walk further into the darkness of the ally. Over her shoulder she called, "I might make a few calls to your previous employers."

Remy ground his teeth. _She wouldn't. No one deals with Essex_ _unless dey have no other option. 'sides, what can Essex_ _do to me as long as I'm on Magneto's good side. I don' know how Mags struck a deal wit' him, but I haven' heard anything from any of Essex's crew for over a year, I doubt that Mystique could convince him to go against Mags. Mags must have something real big to scare Essex. _

_Why does Mystique care about Rogue and me anyway? _Remy pondered this thought for the rest of the night, but never came up with an answer.

* * *

(1) Based after character of the same name from "Clerks."

(2) "Clerks" reference.

(3) See Chapter 15 – End of the Longest Day

(4) Actually from the comics, one in the X-Men Executioner series. Gambit is dancing with Storm at Lila Chaney's concert.

(5) Allison and Warren were a couple in the comics for a while. Around the time Rogue, Destiny, and Mystique tried to kidnap Warren to find out more about the X-Men. Rogue had liked Allison's music and when she found out she was a mutant with control and a handsome millionaire boyfriend, she became extremely jealous and tried to kill her. After Rogue joined the X-Men, there was always a great conflict between the two for that attempted murder thing and them both having a thing for Longshot didn't help the situation.

(6) Argument from the book entitled, surprise, Catch-22 by Joesph Heller. Very confusing book. Not written in chronological order and there are naked WW pilots guys hiding out in trees and guys named Major M. Major (the M. stands for Major) and guess what his rank is.


	17. And you got that from potatoes?

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_thoughts_

**telepathy**

* * *

**  
NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Seventeen - And you got that from potatoes? **

"You must choose," a deep lethargic voice rang out.

The brunette spun around. Behind her was an extraordinarily large frog on a pedestal. She was in a castle dungeon that looked like it hadn't been used in ages. Each wall was bricked gray stone except the one she was looking at before the voice spoke to her. At least she assumed it was speaking to here since she was the only person in the room. The wall that differed from the others had two solid oak doors equally spaced out in it. The doors were mirror images of each other with identical brass gargoyle knockers and matching handles.

"You must choose," the voice spoke again.

_Okay, I did not just see what I thought I saw_, the girl thought as she stared at the enormous frog.

The frog's mouth opened, but instead of the usual croak, he said the following: "One door will lead to your freedom. The other, a horrible death."

"You've got to be kidding me." She rolled her eyes at the soothsayer frog.

"I do not kid. I take my job very seriously," the frog responded.

"Whatever." She sighed. "What were you saying anyway?"

The frog cleared his throat. "You must choose. One door will lead to your freedom. The other, a horrible death," he said melodramatically. "You may ask me one question, but I always lie."

The brunette thought for a second. "But that statement in and of itself is contradictory. If you always lie then that statement itself is false because you would tell the truth. But if what you say is true then saying that you always lie is false, I think."

The frog grew agitated. "What are you saying?! Are you saying my job is wrong?! That my life is meaningless?!" The frog leapt off his pedestal and attached himself to the girl. He poked her in the chest. "Well it pays the rent, sister!"

"EEWWW!!!" she screamed and tried to pry the bugger from her chest.

"Do not touch me there! Only my girlfriend touches me there! (1)"

The girl phased, and the frog fell through her to the ground. "Ew, ew, ew, ew!" Kitty Pryde danced around the cell attempting to clear her mind and body of the frog's slimy skin.

"This changes nothing. You still must choose," the frog stated and hopped back to his pedestal.

"What if I just phase through one of the other walls?" she asked.

"That would be cheating!" the frog chided.

"And you will learn nothing, young grasshopper," said the old guy from _Karate Kid._

"Like, how did you get in here?" the grasshopper asked.

"I came through the correct door when you were not looking," he said with a wise look in his eye.

"Good, then you can tell me which door is the right door," Kitty smiled.

"No, this lesson is yours alone to learn," the old wise man told her.

Kitty put her hands on her hips and scrutinized him. "You don't remember, do you?"

"No," he confessed and hung his head in shame.

"Great," Kitty commented sarcastically. She looked around the room for a few seconds, then sighed and grabbed a door handle.

Pulling the door open revealed another dungeon cell exactly as the last. "What is this?" she exclaimed to the other two sentient beings.

"This is a metaphor for life," the old man said. "Life is choice. You much chose one or the other and you should not look back for the past is closed." He pointed behind Kitty. She spun around to find the door she had just passed through to the room with the bloated frog was gone. She felt the wall for the door but could not feel anything but stone. Kitty ran for one of the two new doors as the old man continued to speak: "But sometimes one's life chooses a path that leads back to something in the past." The door Kitty had chosen revealed the frog struggling to get back onto his pedestal. "This is not a regression because the paths parted and changed before rejoining."

"But what's up with the 'door of death?'"

"'Horrible death,'" the frog corrected.

Kitty rolled her eyes once again.

"To make things interesting," the man explained. "To make you think and trust yourself and your own feelings."

Kitty walked up to the door she did not open before. "So there is just another dungeon room behind every door?" She opened the door without waiting for a response and, sure enough, it was the same room. "What happened to that freedom thing?" she asked.

"I told you I always lied." The frog hopped in the room behind her. In this room her instinct told her to pick the left door, but out of curiosity she started to open the right.

"No! Not that door!" they screamed but it was too late. Kitty opened the door and had seen darkness in the next room except for a piece of metal glinting off the light from her current room.

"Kitty! Wake up," A pajama clad, sling wearing Rogue shook her roommate awake. Kitty sat up sharply.

"Ya okay?" Rogue asked before getting down to business.

"Yeah, it was just a totally creepy dream." Kitty pulled her hair out of her face. "What time is it?"

"One forty-five."

Kitty let her body drop back on her bed and closed her eyes. "And you're waking me up because?"

"Ah have somethin' ta show ya." Rogue reached over with her right hand and turned on the bed lamp. Kitty shielded her eyes with her hand before grabbing the paper Rogue shoved in her face.

"Wow, a ticket stub." The girl handed the ticket back to Rogue then grabbed her covers and turned away from the light.

Rogue shook her roommate again. "No, genius, it is a ticket stub from the Kittie concert signed by the band."

"But you would have had to go to the concert to. . . " Kitty realized what was going on. "But you. . ." She pointed toward Rogue's stuffed bed, "and Mr. Logan -"

"Ah persuaded Logan ta let meh out, so ya know what that means."

Kitty groaned. "Yeah, I'll give Jamie the thirty dollars in the morning." She rolled over again.

"No, ya can't do that," Rogue reasoned. "If ya do, then everyone will know that Logan let meh go an' then he'll come after me for lettin' it get out."

Kitty sat up on her elbows. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Jamie wanted ta go ta the Descanso Rivets concert -" Rogue started explaining her scheme.

Kitty interrupted, "So you want me to buy him a ticket. Okay, 'night, Rogue" And once again she tried to return to her warm slumber.

"No." Rogue stood up and yanked Kitty's comforter off her bed and grabbed her stuffed dragon to gain Kitty's undivided attention this time. "Ya are goin' ta buy two tickets an' take him as your date."

"No!" Kitty exclaimed.

"Shhh!" Rogue put her finger to her lips.

"No, Rogue," Kitty urgently whispered. "I'm _not_ asking Jamie out on a date. That's ridiculous."

Rogue smiled teasingly. "Ah think ya'd make a cute couple."

"No and no," the valley girl crossed her arms across her chest.

"Fine, then ah'll just have ta give Amara her baby blue sweater back tomorrow. Ya know, the one with the large indeterminable stain someone made in the very inconvenient area -" Rogue casually commented as she threw Kitty's dragon and comforter over her roommate's head.

"Damn you Rogue!" Kitty almost shouted as she pulled the covers down so she could see her blackmailer.

"What was that?" Rogue played deaf as she pulled her own sheets back.

"I'll go along with your stupid plan as long as you let Amara continue to believe that her sweater got lost at the cleaners," Kitty caved. "It's so stupid. Like people won't figure it out any ways."

"They won't if ya make yourself seem desperate enough," Rogue reasoned and slipped under her covers.

"No, no, no, no. Rogue," Kitty whined. "Why are you going out of your way to humiliate me? Can't I get Jamie a _really_ nice birthday present or something?"

"But that's not what the squirt wanted ta do with the money," Rogue reminded the girl.

"Why do you hate me, Rogue?" Kitty asked rhetorically.

"Don't bet against meh next time," she responded and turned over, letting Kitty turn out the light and do the same.

* * *

"So was it better than an in-flight movie?" St. John Allerdyce asked his female companion in the passenger seat (2).

"No contest." Wanda Maximoff leaned back comfortably in the passenger seat. "Aside from the green-haired slut, anyway."

John opened his mouth to comment but quickly shut it before any sound came out. _I almost lost my head there! If I mentioned that I thought Wanda and Lorna kinda looked alike to Wanda. . . . I don't want to know what would have happened!_ Instead he safely said, "Just forget about her. She's only a candle flame compared to your inferno."

Wanda laughed. "I'm definitely spending too much time with you."

"What brought you to that conclusion?" John asked, a little hurt.

"I'm beginning, not only, to understand your fire analogies," the witch told him, "but to kind of enjoy them."

"Yes! I'm successfully converting you over to the dark side!" He laughed an evil laughter.

"You mean the dork side?" the inferno jested.

"Potāto, potäto," John accepted. "You know, I always wondered what you were planning on doing after you got rid of Magneto." John returned to the subject lightly touched upon with the in-flight movie comment.

"And you got that from potatoes?" Wanda dodged the indirect question.

"'It's a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes,'" John quoted one of his religious texts (3).

"What?!" Wanda grew to realize that she wasn't really beginning to understand John, that was just a farce.

John asked his question again, "You've planned to kill Magneto ever since you got out of the asylum, but then what? Disneyland?" He wanted to question her whole revenge for what he thought was for Magneto betraying and possibly killing her father, then putting her in an asylum, but he figured that crossed the line.

"I never really thought about it." Wanda sat back, amazed. "Disneyland doesn't sound like a bad idea; my father never took me there before I was committed, the bastard. What about you? After I kill Magneto what will you do? You'll be out of a job."

John smiled. "I've got it all planned out. Vegas," John said with a starry look in his eyes. "I'm going to go join Siegfried and Roy or maybe David Copperfield, is he still alive? Do all their fire tricks for them. It will totally safe and they won't have to bother with all those pyrotechnicians and gun powder and needless stuff like that."

"Yeah, safe 'til you come into work on a caffeine buzz," Wanda interjected.

"You're just knocking on my plan, because your jealous," John told her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly want to work with those pampered lion tamers? They seem kind of annoying to me."

"Wanda, rice cakes annoy you."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" She growled, feeling raw from the jab.

John scooted a little closer to the driver's side door. "Uh, nothing. It's just that there are few things in this world that don't annoy you."

"That's not true!" the witch argued.

"Jessica Simpson."

"Who isn't annoyed by that little ditz?"

"Drinking the orange juice out of the container."

"Have you seen who I live with? That's disgusting."

"Little dogs."

"All they do is bark all pitifully and piddle on everything!" she defended her position.

"Pig tails on anyone over twelve."

"They look like babies."

"A grocery cart sitting in the middle of a parking space."

"That's what the cart corrals are for! Didn't their mothers make them put their toys away when they were done?!" Wanda exclaimed.

"The sound of flip-flops."

"What about you?" Wanda tried to turn the tables on him. "To set you off all I have to do is mention two words -"

"You wouldn't," John called a bluff but still nervously bit his lip.

"Wouldn't I?" Wanda leaned over putting her mouth up to John's ear and whispered, "Purple Peeps."

"NNNOOOOO!!!!" John screamed and the car swerved across the center line, throwing Wanda against the passenger door. Then onto the shoulder of the road they went. This random loss of control continued for ten seconds before John was able to calm down and drive reasonably again. The vehicle was silent and the only communication was Wanda's death glare as she buckled her seat belt. John almost apologized but then realized it was not his fault. With great determination he remained silent.

It took Wanda a few moments to realize that he wasn't going to say anything. _He practically throws me from the car during his little tantrum and he doesn't say anything or apologize. My god, he's attempting to give me the silent treatment. That wont work, he can't go a minute without talking or laughing or burning something. He wont keep this up._ After five minutes Wanda began to doubt herself. _Maybe he's just reliving his encounter with the "devil incarnate candies." I should say something to break him out of it_. "I'm waiting."

"You can wait until the moon explodes and Cane Toad takes a bath for all I care," John stubbornly and seriously told her.

_He wasn't having a flashback or anything_, Wanda thought. _He's just being a pain in the ass! I'll show him._

"Fine, it's not improbable for the moon to explode," Scarlet Witch threatened and an icy blue glow formed around her body.

John looked over at her. "Stop it, we both know you're not going to do it."

"Watch me," she bluffed.

John nervously looked for the celestial body. "Even if you were strong enough, I wouldn't apologize. That's what you're waiting for, right?"

"Why not?" she asked as the blue glow faded from her body and a red glow formed on her face.

"You said it, you knew what was coming, and yet you still did it," he reasoned.

"Stop being a baby! Swerving the car like that was a conscious reaction from you!" she accused. "There was no way just hearing those words could put your body into a fit like that!"

"And how do you know?!" John asked. "I had several very traumatic experiences involving marshmallow treats that are out to get me. Oh, wait, I forgot. You're the queen of trauma. 'I was locked in an insane asylum for most of my teenage life,'" John mocked, knowing he had totally jumped and skipped over that line you don't cross with Wanda.

"Those six years were half of my memorable life! And you have no idea what it's like to be abandoned like that!" she fumed then grew silent. "There is nothing marshmallows can do to you that compares to what was done to me and what I can do to you!"

"Oh, move on already!" he decided not to take her threat seriously. "You're not there anymore, find a hobby or something."

"Move on?!" Wanda exclaimed. "That was six years of my life! I'm sorry I'm not like you and can just drop emotions and forget things at the drop of a hat. Except, obviously, purple peeps." They both grew silent for a minute.

"I'm sorry you had to go through such crap," John finally said, "but is it possible for you to have a conversation and not mention Magneto or the asylum? I don't think we've ever had one. Do you even remember anything before that? I'm beginning to think revenge is all that runs through your mind."

"Like you have anything other than fire on your mind, 24-7!" she retorted.

"At least my obsession is healthy," he argued.

Wanda was flabbergasted. "What's so healthy about playing with fire?! Besides, you brought up Magneto in the first place!"

"Only so that you would maybe think about something in your life besides revenge," he told her.

"Well that was successful!" Wanda shouted at him.

"Sorry for trying!" he shouted back. "There you got two bloody apologies in two minutes. You happy now?" A few seconds later he venomously added, "Oh, wait, I forgot. You can't be happy while Magneto still breathes."

"I was feeling quite dandy hanging out with you until you started this whole, 'Revenge is ruining your life and I want to be your savior' bullshit!" she yelled and turned to look out the window.

John took a deep breath and replied, "I'm no savior. I just don't want you to be so consumed that you are empty when all's said and done."

"Thanks for the concern," she said hostilely, "but I know what I'm doing, so just drop it."

"Fine." John was sick of fighting and didn't really see the point as she wasn't even listening. Then he started giggling.

The witch was able to resist the urge to ask why for a few minutes, but it got to be a bit excessive. "All right, what's the deal?"

"You. . . said. . . 'DANDY,'" he spit out between giggles.

"Oh, shut up," she ordered, still aggitated with him. But we all know John, he couldn't stop. She tried looking out the window and ignoring him, but it didn't work. "I said shut up," she repeated between clenched teeth.

"But.. . . I. . . can't," John's laughter set off by such a simple thing turned into a vent for his agitation. Wanda turned from the window and glared at him, but this did not seem to help as he was imagining this scary face on the woman in the car who could probably destroy him in an instant having said just a few minutes prior "dandy," then imagining it saying other strange phrases like "oke-e-doke and "dinky-di." Gotta love that imagination. Too bad Wanda didn't, not at that particular moment anyway. "'Dandy,'" John repeated and shook his head.

"Knock. It. Off," Wanda's hand shot out and the steering wheel started spinning uncontrollably.

Needless to say, John stopped laughing and was now gripping onto the wheel for dear life, trying to regain control. "What did you do that for?!" he yelled.

"Thought I'd skip the 'Purple Peeps' this time." Wanda crossed her arms and faced forward.

"Somebody's got their panties in a twist," John grumbled. "Tomorrow you'll realize how funny that was and then you'll regret it."

"No I won't." Wanda remained facing forward.

John glanced at her, then back at the road "There is no way they are going to let you into Disneyland, you'll just suck the life right out of it."

"You're confusing me with Rogue," Wanda analogized.

"I can see it now." John mused, "'Teacup ride closed because hormonal teenager threw a fit, little children frightened and bawling.'"

"'Siegfried and Roy's theater burns to the ground as a result of over zealous pyrotechnician,'" Wanda matched his headline.

"'Scary teenager incarcerated after beheading Micky Mouse after he asked her to smile," John matched.

"'Surviving tigers plot revenge involving marshmallow birds on the pyromaniac with the horrible Australian accent,'" Wanda replied.

"'Inmate takes therapist hostage after fellow prisoners laugh at her drawing of toilet paper during a game of Pictionary (5),'" the firebug checked.

"'Orange-haired mutant found catatonic in a .. . . . dammit!" John won both the headline game and putting Wanda in a non-homicidal mood.

"At least I can beat you in one game," John said refering to their various bets and boxers and briefs. "Hey, let's play again, and if I win, you'll come to Vegas with me."

Wanda replied, "I put up with a lot of shit, namely you, but I draw the line at grown men in sequence jumpsuits."

"Then I guess Richard Simmons and Elvis are out too," John mused.

"Yes, even though Richard Simmons isn't a grown man and Elvis is dead," Wanda agreed.

John gasped. "Don't say that!" Wanda just rolled her eyes and looked out the window at the same few buildings she had been watching out the window for the past few minutes.

"So you wont be visiting me in Vegas then," the fireboy asked.

"Nope," Wanda told him. "You can always come to Disneyland with me."

"No thanks," he shook his head, "That damn song never stops playing, inside or outside my head. Plus the giant chipmunks. . ." John shuddered.

Wanda snorted a half-laugh for that was as far as her slowly returning good mood would allow at the time. "Don't you think we should stop for Remy now?"

John looked at her questionably, "Why?"

"It's just that we've driven around the Neptune something like six times now, he's actually seen us the last three times, and he is looking pretty pissed." They turned around the block to past it for a seventh time.

"Okay," John sighed defeated. He slowed down the car and pulled up to the curb, but just as Remy was within five steps of the vehicle, John burned rubber. "Changed my mind," he laughed and peeled out into the street again as Wanda's head whip-lashed.

"John, knock it off," she told him as she rubbed the back of her neck. She was a little sick of his driving. Glancing in the rear view mirror she saw Remy stop running. He was standing in the darkness between the streetlights and his violently glowing red eyes greatly contrasted the cool blue glow the moonlight cast upon the rest of his body. Wanda laughed at the sight, which encouraged John to try it again. But by the time the duo had made it completely around the block, Remy was no where to be found.

"Where'd the bugger go?" John asked nervously. His question was answered when they two heard a crash on the roof of the vehicle. A rectangle in the top of the car glowed gold the popped and fizzled on the heads of the two in the front seat.

"What'd ya do that for?!" John shouted at Remy after he had slipped though the hole in the roof. "I would have stopped. . . . eventually!"

"Thought de old bird needed a sun roof," Remy straightened the collar of his jacket and leaned back in his seat, noticeably unbuckled. John noticed and smiled wickedly. Wanda gripped the 'oh shit' handles and rolled her eyes.

* * *

(1) Line from the NBC _10th Kingdom_ miniseries. This scene is paraphrased from it pretty much.

(2) See Chapter 13: Something like Rex Manning Day

(3) From _Life, Universe, and Everything_ by Douglas Adams, third in the inaccurately named _Hitchhiker's Guide_ trilogy.

(4) Real headline, no joke, except I changed the pronoun his to her.

**A/N:** Hope that was good. I was having a lot of trouble with the John/Wanda conversation, which is pretty much the whole chapter. I hope it isn't too back OOC.


	18. I'm a dead cat too

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_thoughts_  
**telepathy**

* * *

THANKS EVERYONE FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

**  
NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Eighteen - I'm a dead cat too!**

The two men behind the counter didn't even move when a skunk haired Goth walked into Vinyl Vintage. The girl proceeded to set her bag behind the counter and go into the back room to clock in. All the while the two hadn't moved. Rogue stood behind them and leaned up against the counter, trying to figure out what they were doing. After a few seconds she spoke sarcastically, "Isn't it just a party in here." Neither responded.

Rogue shrugged and started to pull some stuff out of her bag. Abruptly Lucas shouted out, "HA, HA!! You blinked!!!" Sly grumbled, handed Lucas his Hostess cupcake and slid off his stool; Lucas followed suit. "Hey Rogue," the both greeted the newcomer. Sly went to the back room to clock out.

"Ya were both workin' this afternoon?" Rogue wondered as the afternoons, besides lunch hour, are pretty slow and Jamal only schedules more than one person some nights, weekends, and during inventory.

Sly he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. "No one told you?" he asked.

"Told meh what?" she asked suspiciously.

"Since your attack there have been some new rules: Two people working at all times, at the end of your shift you leave the store together no matter what, and new close time is eight," Lucas informed her.

"And we got upgraded," Sly smiled as he pulled a cordless phone from his waistband. "You have to keep them on you at all times."

"Sly, of course, has abused the power by calling for bathroom assistance, but then we got into the staring contest," Lucas voice faded.

"Pretty slow then?" Rogue went to pull some books out of her bag.

"Deadly," Sly exaggerated. "I swear there was some sort of zombie monkey virus going around."

"So Ah get ta work with ya then or is Jamal coming in early?" Rogue asked Lucas who still hadn't punched out.

"No, not me and Jamal's still recovering," he calmly said but took a step away from the employee and continued until the counter was between them to continue. "Hey you're arm's all better already?"

His quick subject switching was not out of the ordinary so Rogue thought nothing of it and answered his question. "'I've always been a quick healer (1),'" Rogue said. _Actually Logan's the healer, but no need to complicate things_. Yesterday, the doctor was surprised of her quick recovery as well. Everyone in the mansion had figured it out, but they didn't know the terms of the gift. Nor did they try and question the duo about it after Ray's smart mouth got thrown down and his frozen underwear put on display in the mansion's front yard. "So who am ah workin' with again?" Rogue asked Lucas again.

"I'm disappointed that I didn't get to sign your sling." Lucas ignored the questioned and moved closer to the door. This put the shadow of suspicion in Rogue's mind.

".'.With?" Rogue asked one final time. The shifty eyes Lucas had told her. "No. . . "

"Sorry," Lucas winced. "You will be working with the new trainee Warren and her trainer."

Rogue' groaned and slouched. "No," she shook her head in self pity. Lucas did not have to tell her who the trainer was. The bells jingled and admitted another employee into the store with Warren shortly after her. A permanent scowl formed on Rogue's face.

"Greetings," Ashley waved and strutted to the counter. "How is everyone today?"

"Fine," Rogue grunted. Warren merely shrugged and went to punch in.

Sly's smile almost broke his face. "I feel fantastic since I will not be working with you today. Thanks for asking."

Lucas' response was much more amusing. "I do not know 'Everybody' nor I do feel collectively so I do not have the ability to answer that question."

"Go crawl back into your petri dish," Ashley told Lucas.

"That sounds like a great idea," Lucas told her with a straight face. "I was getting homesick; Hey Sly, you want to go back to the lab with me?"

"Nope, sorry man. Got a date," and as if on cue, Ania knocked on the window to the store and started to make faces at Sly. "Maybe I'll join you on Roots excursion some other time."

Rogue watched the boys leave the store. Then she looked at Ashley. The door slammed as Warren came out of the backroom. They stared at each other in silence. _The gods must hate meh_.

* * *

_Alphabetizing. Ah never realized how much ah hated the alphabet until now. Ah only have ta do the one section, but then ah have Ashley's price changes ta do. "I'm too busy with training Warren." _Rogue's thoughts mocked her. _Ah wish she'd crawl back ta where she came from. Some hell dimension probably. Wonder if she has friends in that dimension Kurt ports through._

All of a sudden there was a tickling sensation on either side of torso. Rogue jumped up in the air and spun around, prepared to punch her assailant with her right fist. She never took the swing as she came face to face with none other than Remy LeBeau, who was grinning satisfactorily.

"What are ya tryin' ta do, Cajun?" Rogue asked. "Get yourself a broken nose?" Her arm fell back to her side, and she wiggled uncomfortably between his hands that were still lightly resting on her waist.

"Truthfully, I wanted a black eye, but if a broken nose is all you can do...," Remy joked and took off his sunglasses. "Can' have you breakin' these."

"If ya don't back off, ah will make your wish come true," she threatened. Remy tried to call her bluff, but her glare did not let up. She felt his breath on her face as he sighed deeply and let go, took a step back. "So what have you been doin' all week, chere?"

"Practically nothin'," Rogue unenthusiastically replied, turning back to her job trying to figure out whether AFI came before or after A Fine American Mess.

"Nothin' but dreamin' of moi, I'm sure," Remy flirted and leaned up against the table.

"How did ya know?" Rogue pretended to act surprised. "Ah been dreamin' 'bout ya so much this week, Ah'm kinda sick of ya now."

"You mean you never d'ought 'bout Remy once d'ese past couple days?" Remy inquired. _I kept d'inkin' 'bout you, the pathetic creature dat I am._

"No," she lied. Then Rogue looked into his eyes and she thought she saw a brief expression of hurt in them before she turned away. "Well, there was that one dream..."

"Really?" Remy raised his eyebrows and turned toward her a little more, all of his body language showing she had his full attention. But the Goth, never one to divulge any information she didn't need to, remained silent and continued her work. Especially when she didn't have a dream about him. _It wasn't that ah didn' think o' him. _In truth, she had thought of him often. She called and talked to him on Wednesday while the others were at school, but didn't have another chance with her homework Kitty diligently brought home for her. She often found herself replaying that night in the pool hall and the concert in her head when she had stared at her textbooks for too long. She found herself actually excited when the phone rang, thinking it might be him. She knew it wasn't, because they decided him calling the Institute was not a good idea in case someone less approving answered, but that didn't stop her from holding her breath in anticipation before remembering their agreement. Afterwards she'd kick herself, _why am ah gettin' all freaked out? We're just friends an' nothing more. He just understands meh more than anyone else ah know, that's why ah get excited. _She'd then grin, _an' ah LOVE crushing his ego_.

"Do tell," Remy added after a few seconds of silence.

"Tell what?" Rogue was zapped back from her thoughts.

"Tell LeBeau your t'oughts, dreams, an' unconscious desires," the Cajun attempted to imitate a Freudian accent.

Rogue raised an eyebrow at him. "An' if ah don't?"

"D'en you will be doomed to live a life of unrequited sexual tension," Remy predicted. "An' you will develop an Oedipus complex," he added.

"Electra," Ashley butted in as she came over to Rogue with another clipboard.

"Huh?" Remy and Rogue expressed, unfamiliar with Freud's vague companion to the Oedipus complex.

"An Oedipus complex is when a son develops and attraction to his mother. Freud's companion to the Oedipus complex was the Electra complex, named after the Mycenaean Electra, daughter of King Agamemnon, whose wife beheaded him when he came back from the Trojan War," Ashley recapped the greek play. Drama was her thing.

"No," Remy shook his head. "I said it right. If Roguey here doesn' confess, she will develop an attraction to her mother." Warren snorted from her work station of sorting posters, and Ashley just rolled her eyes.

"You're sick," Rogue told him bluntly. Her thoughts wondered briefly to the strange woman that had been leaking into her memories of herself and Irene.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Ashley said under her breath. Before Rogue had a chance to retort, the girl handed the second clipboard to the employee. "Get on setting this display once you've finish up with what your doing." She turned to head back to the cashier's counter.

"An' what will ya be doin'?" Rogue was upset by the bossy queenly attitude of the punk princess.

"Paperwork that Jamal hasn't been able to," Ashley shot back at her insolent worker.

The Goth shut-up. _The work he can't do 'cause he was beat up fo' hiring meh. _She jumped a little lower on her happiness scale as she started to fill with guilt.

Remy noticed the new slump in her shoulders. "What's that about?"

"Nothing," Rogue lied and her mouth grew tight and she pretended to concentrate on her work.

Remy had known her long enough to know that he shouldn't pry any further when she was wearing that face unless he wanted an argument. So he changed the subject. "So in dis dream, what am I wearing?"

She continued to stare at her work. "White gloves," she started a story.

Remy paused for a second for her to continue. When she didn't he exclaimed, "Was dat all? Dis sounds like one dirty dream, chere."

The girl turned to the boy. "It sure was. You were a duck. You were dancing and singing the Hokey-Pokey in a pig pen."

Remy was speechless for about ten seconds, just for effect. "Dat is one freaky dream. You just might be kinkier d'an John and Wanda."

"You're tellin' meh. Ya wanna know who was in the pig pen with ya?" Rogue continued to tease. She smiled mischievously at the Cajun.

"After looking at your face, I'm goin' to say no," Remy answered. "But you're goin' to tell me anyway, aren't you?"

"Scott and Pietro."

Remy covered his ears and closed his eyes. When she didn't say anything more, Remy opened one eye and asked, "Were dey ducks too?"

"No, they were normal," Rogue said. "And you'd never believe what they were doin'."

"I didn' realize you were into bestiality," Remy stated, "Maybe I should be rethinkin' dis whole datin' thing. I have allergies."

"We are NOT datin' an' . . . " her comment trailed off as she felt a strange tingle at the back of her neck. Not like when Remy tickled her; this feeling was different. Urgent, demanding, defensive.

"Don' tell me you've run out of material already," Remy continued the banter, not felling the same bad vibration in the air.

"Get down!" Rogue yelled and tackled Remy to the ground. The window above them shattered and a rock the size of a bread box knocked over the shelf of CD's they were just standing in front of.

Rogue's cheek was dangerously close to Remy's chin as she moved herself a little farther away from his head. She felt glass slide out of her hair and squinted as it hit and bounced off the floor. When she opened her eyes she was starring straight into Remy's glowing red orbs. He was still a little shocked and didn't bother blinking; he almost forgot to breathe. Mesmerized and still a little shocked herself, Rogue found her poisoning lips unconsciously moving closer to the Cajun's. Seconds before they connected, reality hit. Or in other words, Ashley's lace less shoe.

"Hey! If I don't get any, no one does," the bitter salesclerk told the couple glaring at her. "I'm calling the cops; you clean this mess up." The goth growled but didn't move from atop of Remy.

"What just happened, chere?" Remy spoke first.

"Ah saved your sorry ass from bein' crushed by a boulder. Then ah was pelted by a shoe. How has your day been?" she irately answered. Remy smiled incorrigibly at Rogue. "What?!" she insisted after he didn't say anything else.

"You saved me. 'I always d'ought you had a soft spot fo' d'is Cajun,'" he declared, smirking.

Rogue grew red. "'Yeah, 'bout as soft as your big fat-head! Ya gonna shut-up or am ah gonna havta help ya (2)?!'"

The Cajun continued to smirk. Rogue put her hands on his chest and pushed herself up. Remy coughed after she knocked the wind out of him.

As Rogue when to pick up Ashley's shoe, the swamp rat stayed on the floor but turned to his side, propping his head on his elbow. "At least you d'ink my ass is worth savin'."

Ashley's shoe came flying at Remy's head once again.

* * *

"Okay, where too, Scarlet?" St. John Allerdyce turned to the girl in the passenger seat.

"Don't ask me, you're driving," she told him. She looked out the windshield. "And not very well."

"If these pots of petunias would stop dropping out of the sodden' sky and telling me about their deja voo (3), I'd be doin' a lot better." John jutted to the left as a slime covered plant crashed in front of the car. Then an earthquake cracked the street in front of the Brotherhood house; the asphalt jutted upwards like a half-pipe.

The pyromaniac took his foot off the accelerator. "Now what?"

Wanda Maximoff smiled. "Gun it." John looked at her like she was crazy, which she was, but crazy in a different way than she was.

The driver checked his side mirrors and saw two scraggly teens, one hopping, one running, catching up with them. John shrugged and dropped his foot on the accelerator like a ton of bricks. Wanda was ready for it and her hands glowed in an ice blue energy. Just as they reached the precipice Todd Tolanski leapt onto the passenger side of the vehicle. His face appearing on the other side of the glass frightened Wanda, and she broke her concentration. The jeep jutted to an abrupt stop, flinging the amphibious mutant forward. John heard the pop and fizzle of the front tires.

He looked sincerely at Wanda. "How do you feel about public transportation?"

"Disgusting, disease ridden," she replied.

"Have you ever been on a bus?" he asked seriously.

"Yes, once -," she started.

"Well, you've never ridden a bus with me," John interrupted and opened his door, conveniently knocking down Todd who was trying for the drivers side this time. The firebug grabbed Wanda's hand and yanked her across the drivers seat out of the jeep. "We're off like prawns in the sun."

Wanda totally ignored his strange Aussie sayings and stubbornly replied, "Why can't we take the jeep, again?"

"We could, but the bus has this great feature called inflated tires," John retorted.

"You could always change the tire," Wanda continued to drag her feet despite the gaining Lance Alvers and recovering Todd. "There's a full sized spare on the back."

"Sure, we have enough time to push a jeep out of a rut, change its tire, and then pray it restarts. Hell, we'll have time to spare before I'll be covered in slime and sent down into a great Hadean abyss, do you want to have a picnic too?" he said sarcastically as he dragged her to the nearest bus stop.

They were ten seconds too late as the bus pulled away from the curb. John ran out into the street and let go of Wanda's hand to stop the oncoming bus.

Wanda watched with her hands across her chest as the bus was just going to swerve around the Australian. She sighed and dropped her hands. "I'll take care of this, you go slow down those bozos." Wanda nonchalantly walked out into the path of the bus, she glared at it and then threw out her arm. The bus driver looked really confused as his engine cut out and the bus glided to a stop just six inches from the witch.

Meanwhile, John left his position in the street to run back toward the Brotherhood house. He stopped when he could see both Todd and Lance. Slick as lightning, a lighter flew out of his pocket, and flame, untamed and unformed, grew in his open hand. John was thrown off balance by the quaking earth into a tree, but he didn't lose his fireball or his lighter.

"OW! That hurt," John stood up and smiled. "but not as much as this, ya wankers!"

Just after dodging Todd's slime ball, John's fire had grown big enough to divide. So he blew playfully across his hand and two fire trees headed toward the Brotherhood mutants. John backed up to where Wanda was still standing inches from the bus, his eyes never leaving the fire. The trees threw some fire apples at the two boys if they tried to veer off course. John laughed and continued to watch his fire creatures.

Wanda quickly grew tired of waiting, "_Wizard of Oz_, cute; now get on the bus, Scarecrow." She grabbed him back the back of his collar and dragged him to the bus door. Wanda, still not happy with riding the bus, set the fare collector to spew out the change it contained.

"Wanda, I think public transportation is scraping together money as it is. It doesn't need your help," John said as he tried to scoop up the change off the floor.

"Your mutants," the driver in a low voice asked John.

"Is that a problem?" he gritted his teeth and reached for his lighter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wanda's eyes burning through the driver.

"Nope." The driver smiled and stretched his large hand over the spilt change. There was the sound of air rushing and all of the change and some gum wrappers were sucked up in the palm of his hand.

"Neat!" John exclaimed and continued on the bus.

"You still have to pay the fare," the driver told him.

John grumbled and dug into his pockets for change. "Can flatscans see the bus too? And does it go really fast and get skinny if you have to squeeze through traffic?"

"No." The driver turned his attention to the road, it was more comforting, "It's just a bus. You read too much _Harry Potter_."

John, disappointed, turned and sat down next to Wanda. "Are you enjoying your bus ride?"

"We wouldn't be here if you weren't for you," she sulked.

"Yes, that's right. We'd be in little slime cocoons underground next to some Tremor eggs," John told her.

"If you hadn't pissed off Todd again -" she started.

"Cane Toad, I could of handled. But you had the brilliant idea of stealing Lance's ute again," John pointed out.

"How was I supposed to know he was awake? He's been upstairs moping for the past few days. He didn't even notice I took it on Wednesday or Thursday," she rationalized.

"He noticed it was gone," John revealed. "He just thought some Tabby-Sheila stole it again, and I didn't tell him any different."

"When were you talking to Lance?" she asked.

"Last night, after supper. I asked him if I could borrow it to take you roller skating, and he gave me the keys," John told her. "I can't believe you'd never been roller skating."

"I can't believe he gave you the keys!" Wanda exclaimed. "That car is like a baby to him."

"I don't think he was right in the head," John theorized. "He keep mumbling about shoe sales, and he called me baby. For a second I thought he was going to slap my ass."

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Should I be jealous?"

"No more than I should be of the sixth grader at the roller rink who tried to give you his prize from the quarter machine."

"You mean the one you were pulling pranks in the girls bathroom with?"

"That was the same one?!" John exclaimed. "They all look alike."

"Yes." Wanda turned to face forward as to not laugh at him. "So many sixth graders run around with a red scarf around his head claiming he is Raphael from the Ninja Turtles."

"Yes, American children are so alike," John said with a straight face.

"And they all have best friends who run around dressed as Zorro," she continued.

"Who doesn't?" John was on the point of breaking, but he wanted Wanda to laugh first. She thought the skating rink was so lame at first, buzzing with sixth grader drama, but he knew she was having a great time by the end. Wanda was silent for a bit, not knowing how to respond. Her "you're insane" look was getting really worn out the past few days. So John took the next line, "Were you Raphael or Zorro?"

Wanda's head fell to her hand. Then she looked over at St. John and smiled. "You have to ask?" she continued to play his game.

John slapped himself in the forehead. "Of course, Raphael. I should have known with all the brooding."

"I do not brood," she defended, a little insulted.

"Not with me you don't," John gloated. "But the minute I'm gone. . . "

"What are you talking about, you psycho? Even if I did 'brood', how would you know if you weren't there?"

"I have my ways," he grinned mischievously. She didn't trust that grin. Not for a second.

"Like what?" she asked.

"You know, the usual," John rambled. "Scyring bowls, crystal balls, nanny cams..."

Wanda look at him with laughter in her eyes although not yet on her lips. "You are so full of shit, I'm surprised farmers haven't approached you for fertilizer."

"Who says they haven't?" he asked rhetorically.

Wanda couldn't resist chuckling any longer. "I don't know how you do it, Johnny boy."

"Do what? Sheer obscene messages in sheep without getting bit by a spider or shot by the shepherd? It's not hard really, its the old wombat burrows you have to watch out for."

"No," she said, then replied seriously, "make me enjoy myself in spite of me. It's like... "

"COFFEE!" John stood up as he pulled the stop cable.

Wanda fell out of her seat at the sudden stop. She stood up and glared at John. He had no clue what her problem was. She was being honest and a little sentimental for once and he wasn't even paying attention. _I should behead him where he stands._ She settled for smacking him in the back of the head as he got off the bus.

"OW!" John rubbed his head and turned to face the red witch. "Did I deserve that?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Ya know, if ya don' have anythin' better ta do, ya could help," Rogue suggested to the Cajun sitting Indian style in the non glass covered front corner of the store. For the last thirty minutes he sat and watched as Rogue picked up all the CDs off the floor and sweep up the glass.

"Why? I'm not gettin' paid," he stated innocently.

She stopped sweeping and leaned up against her broom. "That didn' stop ya from chasin' down a shoplifter," Rogue retorted (4).

"D'at was different," Remy declared.

"How?"

"D'at was fun," he replied as if it were common knowledge. "Wasn' dat fun, Warren?" He called across the room to the trainee.

"Cleanin' can be fun," Rogue tried once again to get the Cajun to stop watching her and do something.

Remy laughed at the attempt. "In what world is d'at?"

"The one where ah kick your ass if ya don't help," Rogue threatened.

Remy smiled. "Now dis is the kind of world dat I like: Get rewarded for doin' nothin'."

"Ah didn't know ya were a masochist," Rogue stated and moved her eyes from Remy to the floor as she started to sweep again.

"D'ere are a lot of d'ings you don' know 'bout me, chere." Remy smirked. "If you come wit' me after work, I can show you more."

The goth laughed. "Ya make it sound like ah _want_ ta know more."

"Course you do. You're too curious for your own good," he replied. "If you were a cat, you'd be long dead by now," Remy analyzed. "Don' deny it."

"Oh, ah won't," she said in a monotone. "Ah am a dead decayin' cat. Right outta _Pet Sematary_."

"I am surprised you don' smell more," he mused.

"Ah do, ya just can't tell 'cause o' the gym sock reek your emittin'."

"I do not." Remy tried to smell his shirt inconspicuously. "I smell manly and musky."

"Exactly," Rogue agreed. "Like dirty gym socks and over inflated ego."

"My ego is perfectly flated," he retorted.

"Then why do ah have ta keep beatin' it down?"

"'Cause other d'en being into beastiality, you are also a sadist," the "masochist" declared.

"Aren't you two just a match made in heaven?" Warren added as she walked by. "Or in hell, however you look at it."

"Dat's what I've been tryin' ta tell her!" Remy exclaimed. "See, da kid gets it. Why can' you?

"Do ya wanna know something real 'bout meh, Remy?" she asked before she knew it, not knowing what exactly she was going to tell him, but need to change the subject. _Ah don't want ta be gettin' a reputation for bein' inta s & m._

"Yes," he quickly replied. "Do you practice yoga?"

"That wasn't an invitation ta ask a question," Rogue explained, a little relieved that she didn't have to come up with anything to share. "Ah was gonna voluntarily give ya some information ta the inner workin's of mah mind, but if ya aren't interested. . ." her sentence trailed off as she turned her attention back to sweeping.

"Oh, I'm interested!" Remy exclaimed. "I'm a dead cat too!" From across the room Warren send a confused glance toward Remy, then shrugged and continued taking down posters from the side windows.

Rogue smiled to herself as she grabbed a dust pan. "Sorry, swamp rat, the window of opportunity has closed."

"D'en it's a good thin' I have a proven window breaking rock here." Remy leaned over and picked up the small boulder that had shattered the window. When he picked it up he noticed that it was more than just a rock. There was a thin twine winding around the stone.

Rogue didn't notice Remy's discovery. "Breakin' a window seems a bit too inept fo' a 'master thief.'" When there was no quip response from her friend, Rogue looked over in his direction. The Cajun was still sitting on the floor with the rock in front of him and a crumpled piece of paper in his hands. The Goth wondered what had peaked the boy's interest, _Naked women on Harley's? _She swept up a dustpan full of glass and made a detour to Gambit's shoulder on her way to the trash can. She saw only a few lines written on the scrap, "Crawfish can read faster than you, swamp rat. Maybe Bucket Head should invest some money inta a tutor -" She only then started to actually read the words on the page. Rogue became as dazed as Remy.

"Abominations" was the first word to stand out. Then "traitor," "shot," "lynched," "or else," and other threats and derogatory remarks.

Remy was the first to snap out of the trance. "Fine readin' material, no?" He looked up at the stunned Rogue with her mouth parted slightly open. She didn't respond, but took the note from him and headed back to Jamal's office where Ashley was conversing with the cops.

"It was a hate crime," Rogue said and tossed the paper nonchalantly on Jamal's desk. She didn't say another word, turned and left the way she came.

* * *

Across the street from the music store a middle age hispanic woman sat on a bench. This was her last stop before she got on a plane for Mexico. She could not tell what was being said in the store, but the body language the past few minutes was not to her liking. _I told that horny henchmen to stay away from my daughter_. _He will learn that my threats are not empty ones_.

The woman stood up and walked casually down the street. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. After pressing a few buttons, the phone began to ring.

"I see you finally escaped from Area 51," said the man on the other end of the phone.

"You have never experienced the pain I will put you through for that, Erik," she told her former partner. "But that is a subject for another day. Right now I have some juicy info for you. Unfortunately, I had nothing to do with setting it up; although I wish I could see the shocked and appalled look on your face when you find out."

"What are you babbling on about, Raven?" Erik Lensherr grew annoyed. "I have a breakout session in ten minutes."

"Just get back to Bayville," Raven Darkholme snapped. "You'll be surprised to find your lackeys are keeping some pretty interesting liaisons."

"What? Gambit?" Erik guessed. "That's nothing new. As long as his girls stay away from the Lucky Charms -"

"I'm not concerned about your home decor!" she interrupted the megalomaniac. She massaged the bridge of her nose and said in an irritated tone, "Just get back to Bayville and get them in line, with their pants up preferably." Mystique pulled the cell phone away from her face and pressed the red end key.

She stared at the screen and pressed a few buttons. _Dragoness-Tamara, Erik Lensherr, Essex_, she scrolled down her phone book. Her thumb hesitated to press call. _If I contact him, he will come to Bayville and might even come to contact with Rogue. Is keeping that scoundrel away from her worth the risk?_ Mystique glanced back at the store only to witness Remy trying to make a very obvious grab at Rogue's behind. She pressed the send button without any further hesitation.

* * *

When Rogue returned to the scene of the crime, Remy had moved from the floor and was holding up the roll of thick opaque plastic over the empty window frame. "Care to give Remy a hand wit' this?"

"What are ya doin'?" the employee asked her friend.

"I decided to stop bein' an evil henchmen for a while an' try bein' a nice guy," Remy declared.

Rogue couldn't help but smile a little. "Ah didn' know ya knew what nice meant," she teased. "'Sides, ya were never an evil henchmen. More like incompetent."

Remy didn't take it to heart. "Hey, I'm very competent when I want to be. I just lack motivation. I need a muse. Do you want to apply for de job?"

Rogue grabbed the staple gun from the box of tools and walked over to the window. "If it means Ah have ta spend more time with you an' your ego, Ah'd rather wear Kitty's pink hot pants." She climbed up onto the step ladder Remy had set up next to the hole.

Remy leaned back and took a very long and noticeable stare at her backside. "Your ass would look good in pink hot pants." Remy tried to inconspicuously remove one hand from the roll of plastic, but Rogue noticed the hand and its intentions.

"Ah wouldn't inappropriately fondle the girl with the staple gun if ah were ya," she warned, not looking up from her work. Remy grinned mischievously.

* * *

The witch and the pyromaniac stood outside the entrance to the infamous chain coffee shop, Starmucks.

"Come on," John grabbed Wanda's hand once again but her feet remained cemented to the sidewalk. Her lack of any slack sent him recoiling backwards to the ground. "Now what?" He said irately from his sitting position on the sidewalk.

"I'm not going in there," Wanda stated.

"Why, aren't you in a stubborn mood today," John pointed out. "'I won't get on the bus; I won't eat my cereal dry, but I won't pour the sour milk on it,'" he mocked. "Oh let me fetch your red carpet and bunny slippers, your majesty."

"Yes, go and stop pissing me off," she remarked and turned her back to the boy.

As she walked away, John called after her, "But the caffine is in there!" He pointed to Starbucks.

"I know where they have better coffee," Wanda called back.

"But they don't have just any coffee in there," John yelled then jumped up to catch up with the witch. "They have 'mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream! (5)'"

"'That sounds disgusting.'"

"'It is!'" John jumped up and down excitedly. "'And if it was physically possible to make love to a hot beverage, this would be the one! (5)'"

"I wish you two the best in life, because I'm still not going in there with you." Wanda started walking again.

John quickly ran out in front of her. "'No, no, no. It's just a fling. I'll finally spend the night with it, but then when I see it in the morning with the caramel unswirled and the whip cream unwhipped, huh! Bye-bye! (5)'"

The girl blinked hard, amazed at the thought processes of her companion. "Did we just have a conversation about a one-night stand with a specialized coffee?"

"Yes, is it that unusual?"

"Not coming from you." Wanda turned the corner with John at her side. "Here it is."

"Izzy 39?" John read the large letters etched in the window. "Doesn't sound like a coffee shop." Wanda opened the door and lead the way in. "But at least it smells like one."

The coffee shop was filled with outcasts of society as well as college students and hep-cats. The front room was bright, full of tables, couches and laptops utilizing the wireless access. There was an iron spiral staircase in the back that lead up to the darker, hazy, smokers balcony.

They walked up to the counter and the Aussie read the chalkboard full of drinks behind the cashier. "Wanda!" John started poking the girl in the arm excitedly.

"What?" she said in an annoyed tone.

"Does that say 'Osama bin _latte_?'"

"Yes, are you all of a sudden illiterate?"

John could not suppress the excited laughter. "That's great! Better than a mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream!"

"Are you going to leave me for a latte?" Wanda said jokingly before telling the emo kid behind the counter her order.

"Can't I have you both? Ooooo...Americano Idol...Panama Canal-o-mel..." John playfully pleaded before he ordered his new favorite coffee drink.

Wanda rolled her eyes and turned away. She looked around and took in her surroundings. "I don't know how I stand hanging out with you, St. John Allerdyce."

John was not modest. "Sure you do. I'm cute, funny, and I have an adorable accent. I don't know how anyone can get enough of me. We tried to spend a day apart and look what happened. You lasted, what fourteen hours before you were knocking on my door. What day was that? Wednesday? What day is today?"

"Friday. And I'll have you know that I was just fine having a day to myself, but Piotr called and said if I wanted to ever see you alive again, I had to come and take you away," she told him.

"Petey's in denial," John declared. "He thinks I'm cute, funny, and adorable too."

Wanda doubted John's declaration. "I don't know. You didn't hear what he was going to do with your body. And he's Russian, so they make sure you are dead." Wanda paid for her drink and took it into her hands.

"Huh? What does being Russian have to do with loving me?" John paid for his drink and they both started to head toward the furniture in the front of Izzy's.

"You've never heard of Rasputin?"

"Yeah, that's Petey's last name."

"Really?!" Wanda exclaimed. "I hope it is no relation."

"Relation to what?"

Wanda sat down on a loveseat facing the window and looked up at her companion. "Rasputin was this crazy, evil Russian monk. He was poisoned, shot, thrown from a height, drown, and then decapitated just to make sure (6)."

"Why in the world would you know that?" John asked as he settled down beside her, putting his non-coffee holding arm around the back of the couch.

The Witch took a sip of her coffee. "I came across it doing research."

"For what?" John wondered since she wasn't exactly going to school like she was required to by law.

"Methods of homicide and torture," Wanda said matter-of-factly. "I wanted to determine which ones were most painful, times taking, most rewarding, et cetera."

John shook his head. "What was the verdict?" Afterwards taking a sip of his coffee.

"I think crushing slowing with a large rock was -" Wanda was interrupted by John spitting his coffee all over the table in front of them.

"That was disgusting!"

Wanda blinked and grabbed some nearby napkins. "The coffee or my preferred method of slaying?"

"The coffee," John answered. "Your morbid fantasies don't frighten me. This coffee on the other hand..." The Aussie used one finger to slide the cup on the coffee table farther away from him. "There is only one thing you can do with coffee that bad," he reached into his pocket.

Wanda knew what was going to happen next. She shook her head and leaned back into the sofa. POOF, a little fire popped on the top of the drink. "HEY! Put that out or take it to the smoking section!" yelled the cashier. John looked up at the kid with a pitiful puppy dog face. It didn't work, not that John was surprised. It barely worked on Wanda. He let it burn for as long as he could get away with before he sighed and waved his hand and extinguished the flame. "I never get to have any fun," he pouted. Then a light bulb when on in his head. "I could put out all of the cigarettes upstairs!"

"Sure, abruptly taking away the nicotine from a room full of addicts sounds like fun," Wanda said sarcastically.

"Well, your highness, what's your great idea?"

Wanda sat in thought, then reached down and pulled out a few sugar packets from the table. "Conversation starters." She was, of course, referring to the random questions printed on the back of that brand of sugar packets.

John looked confused for a second, then he got it. "Oh!" He reached down and grabbed three packets, ripped off the tops and poured them directly into his mouth. "Di lobe shugar dthots!"

With eyebrow raised she answered, "Not what I had in mind."

The sugar-fiend swallowed and resalivated his mouth before responding, "Good, if you were in my mind I'd be scared."

"You and me both." The Scarlet Witch was never so happy that she was not a telepath. She instead went with her original plan and read the packet. "'What three words best describe you?'"

"Uh, fire, fire, and..." John looked up and rubbed his chin, "fire." He nodded.

"'What do people often misunderstand about you?'" she read next. Wanda didn't give John a chance to respond. "Skip that one, we don't have all day."

"Your turn." He swiped a packet form her hands. "'How important is kissing to you in a relationship?' What kind of a question is that? If a girl is a bad kisser and slobbers all over my face, there is no relationship!"

"How would you rate me?" she asked.

A normal man would gulp, start sweating, and have a rapid onslaught in his mind about how to address this question, especially given the powerful and angry nature of the woman. But, as we all know, John is not a normal man and answered instantly. "More skilled than I would think, given your inexperience. Unless they had snogging (7) classes in the joint, although I'd be frightened that I'd get the crazy one that would want to break my legs like Annie Wilkes. Could use some more teasing, more variation with the tongue, but if you touch that lip nibbling thing you do, it's over."

"You like that?" Wanda smiled proudly and mischievously.

"A mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream can't do that," he said matter-of-factly.

Wanda re-situated herself confidently on the couch, "One problem with your _Misery_ scenario: You're not a writer."

John was insulted. "Shows how much you know."

"What are you talking about?" She raised a questionable eyebrow.

"I am an author," he announced dramatically.

"Of what? I've never seen you write. Madlibs don't count," she told him.

"I write stuff," he defended. "I write stuff all the time."

"Filling in crossword puzzles with obscene words is not writing."

"Yes, it is, but that is not what I'm talking about."

"Then show me," she challenged.

"No, you're being mean to me." John folded his arms across his chest and looked away.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine." Wanda pulled out another sugar packet. "'If you could only eat one food, and nothing else, for three days in a row, what would it be?'"

"VEGEMITE SANDWICHES!" he exclaimed. John hunched over his hands and moved his fingers in a Montgomery Burns fashion. "I've finally found the stuff the states." He giggled maniacally. "I've ordered three cases on Mags credit card!" He continued to laugh for several minutes.

The Witch stared at him in wonder. Wanda had no idea what vegemite was, but didn't ask him fearing that he might start that giggling again if she did. So she asked him one final question from the sugar god/ "'Do you get along well with you family?'"

John sobered up and slouched back into the couch. "Good, I guess. However good you can get along with dead people." John actually became silent. He stopped fidgeting; he wasn't looking all over the room; he was just sitting.

Wanda's eyes grew wide, _I didn't realize. I've been spending every day with the guy and I know almost nothing about his life before her joined up with my father. Except that Remy found him in juvie. And he developed some childhood trauma with purple peeps_. "I'm sorry," she finally mumbled. "I didn't mean to bring some like that up."

John shrugged. "You didn't know. I don't go wearing it on my sleeve or anything. I live by my grandpa's motto: 'Live life like it's unidentifiable leftovers in the icebox.'"

At once Wanda thought she knew where his craziness came from. "You're grandfather?"

"Yep, lived with him since I was seven. And let me tell you, nothing gets old man smell out."

"You're parents died when you were seven." Wanda sympathized, "That must have been hard." She knew what it was like to have one parent die, although she barely remembered her mother nowadays. _My father and brother were all I had left, and look how they treated me_. The anger swelled up inside. She quickly swallowed it, it was not her tragedy they were talking about today.

Again John shrugged and looked at his clasped hands. "When your mum kills your dad while you're at camp, then shoots herself, what are you gonna do?"

Wanda's eyes grew wide. "What?!" she exclaimed.

John sighed and quoted his religious text: "'Anything that happens, happens. Anything in happening, causes something else to happen, causes something else to happen. Anything that in happening, causes itself to happen again, happens again. It doesn't necessarily do it in chronological order, though (8).'"

"Could you be more vague?" Wanda asked.

"Yes, if I tried really hard." The pyromaniac sighed and looked her straight in the eye.

Wanda broke the glaze from his turquoise eyes and looked to her hands. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Makes no difference to me," he said in a tone that made Wanda believe it wasn't the truth. "'A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away' aka Australia, there was a young boy named St. John Allerdyce. A fun loving boy, he joyfully filled his days the way most little boys from Oz do: causing mischief and getting dirty. One day he came home and found that his dad had packed up all of his stuff. He was moving out; his parents were getting a divorce. His daddy promised him that he would still visit often and spend as much time with him as possible. Devastated, the boy was, but despite his mum's grumbling comments and curses, his dad kept his promise and they still went swimming and camping, just like the old days.

"After spending fun times with his dad, he would go home to his slobbering drunk and depressed mum. She never hurt him physically, just ignored and neglected him except when he was an ear for her vengeful comments and lies about his dad. After a few months she seemed to be doing better: she drank a lot less and started reading again, and working on a very secret project. The boy didn't know anything about the project; for it was a secret, and his mum would not break when he unrelentlessly asked about it.

"When school let out that year, he came home to find out his mum had signed him up for camp. He was very excited, and didn't even think it was suspicious that it was his mum, not his dad that sent him to camp. He had forgotten about all the fights they had about him going away to camp: Dad for, mum against.

"When he came home from camp, he found his mum drunk staring at the telly even though it was off. She didn't say hello, or hug him, or anything. Just sat there. So he went to his dad's but he wasn't there. The next couple days he fended for himself. He never saw his mum move. He tried calling his dad everyday, but no one ever answered. The little boy started school again. Upon returning from his second day of school, he found his bloody mum with a gun in her hand. She was still sitting in that same spot on the couch.

"The police officers told the boy that his mum had killed his dad, cut up his body, put it in a trunk, and dumped it down an old well. The police officers dropped the boy off at his senile grandfather's house. The police said that she felt guilty about it and that was why she shot herself, but they lied. She killed herself because she focused so much of her life on her revenge that she felt empty after it was done. I wasn't even important enough to keep her around." John switched from third to first person at the end of his story.

"I'm sure that's not true," Wanda tried to reassure her boyfriend.

He looked her in the eye for the first time since he started the story. "Oh, it is. That's what the note said. Wanna see?" John leaned forward and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He flipped through the receipts until he pulled out a piece of worn crumpled creme paper.

Wanda took it hesitantly and unfolded it. There were cute kittens hanging from the border of the suicide note. Wanda could not deny what it said. After reading the note it hit her. _This is why John was being so weird the other night. He doesn't want me to end up like his mother._ "Do I remind you of your mother?" she blurted out without thinking.

The Aussie was taken aback. He squinted and looked at her funny. "No...she was blonde and chubbier."

Wanda tilted her head and looked at him from the top of her eyes. "You know what I mean. Is this why you freaked out in the car the other day? When you asked me what I was doing after I killed Magneto? Are you afraid I'll end up like your mom?"

"Are you trying to analyze my actions?"

Wanda thought about the absurdity of it all. "Surprisingly yes, and I think I'm right on."

"You think you have entered the mind of a crazed pyromaniac?"

"Yes."

"Good for you," he said over-enthusiastically. "Now that our coffee house bonding is over, what do you want to do?"

The Witch noticed his avoidance of the issue and his change of subject, but didn't push it. "Who said our coffee house adventure was over?" she smiled wickedly.

John returned the look. "What do you have in mine, my devious witch?"

Wanda stood up and left Izzy's without saying a word. John lept up to follow her. She headed back the way they had come, back to the bus stop. When she had gotten to the door to the Starbucks, she paused for John to catch up. He was really confused about what was going on, but the mischievous smile on his girlfriend's face told him it was going to be good. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the franchise.

"Can I have a single mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream?" she told the coffee girl before winking at the confounded John.

"What size would you like?" she asked with extra pep.

"Uh, a single, small," Wanda responded and illustrated the size with her hands.

"We don't have small. We have tall, grande, and ven-tee," explained the girl (9).

"But since your tall is your smallest cup, wouldn't that be your small?" she asked.

The coffee girl blinked hard. "Would you like your mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream in tall, grande, or ven-tee?"

"This is why I don't come to these places," Wanda whispered to her companion. "I'll have a tall."

Wanda picked up the finished drink and dragged a still mystified John to a booth by the front window. After setting down the drink on the table she leaned over and whispered her plan into John's ear. He then smiled and went to work.

Several minutes later, a new customer came into Starmucks. He paused at John and Wanda's table for a second before continuing to the counter. "Hey what is in this stuff?" he asked.

"Why?" said the perky coffee girl.

"'Cause that guy's is on fire," the new customer told the employee (10). Her eyes grew wide. Pop, pop, pop! All of the drinks in the room formed little fires on top of them. People started screaming and running toward the nearest exits.

In the nearly vacant Starmucks, John laughed hysterically and Wanda smiled. "Great idea!" John praised her.

"You expanded it quite well," she complimented the pyromaniac across from her. "I'm hungry," she stated.

"What do you want to eat?" John gestured to the bagels and cookies behind the counter. "Looks like we have free reign."

Wanda smiled seductively. "I was thinking more along the lines of lips. I just want a nibble."

John took the hint. "Really?" He smiled and leaned across the table.

* * *

A total of two customers had come into the store all night. One didn't buy anything. The other annoyed the hell out of Rogue, but at least he picked up two records and a CD. Having been excused from putting up the display since the window incident, Rogue was in her last half hour of work, counting down the minutes until she was able to leave. She had even counted her drawer already for quick removal at the end of the night. Currently she was lying on her back on the front counter, struggling with Hemmingway and listening to some band Lucas recommended to her called Gwar (11). Rogue sighed into her book and turned back a page to torture herself all over again.

"I'm sure dat you would have an easier time wit' dat book if d'ere was some nice jazz playin'." Remy moved over toward the player with a CD of John Coltrane. Suddenly a staple gun was pointed at him, the possessor of the gun hadn't even torn her eyes away from her horrid novel. "How about some Zeppelin?" Rogue gestured with her staple gun. Remy put up his hands and backed away from audio system. "I can' believe you're still holdin' onta dat t'ing."

"A girl has gotta protect herself," she replied. "Right, Warren?"

The girl sat in a chair facing the main street, rolling up posters. She shrugged. "Sure, whatever. I'll agree with whatever you say as long as you tell me before you shoot him again, so I can stop my cop lookout and watch." Warren had been on cop lookout since the officers left. The policemen had promised to send a patrol car by every hour for the rest of the night in case of another attack. Ashley doubted his follow-through, so she assigned Warren the job of looking out for the car to make sure they did. After two and a half hours of no marked cars, she called Bayville Police Station and gave them and earful. Now Warren could report seeing a car every thirty to forty-five minutes.

"I'll give Ashley one thing," Rogue commented about the assistant manager doing paperwork in the office, "she can make things happen." She glanced over at Remy as he mysteriously ducked behind an aisle.

The unfamiliar sound of bells tinkling sent Rogue sitting upright. When she saw who it was she slouched, "Hey."

"Hello," greeted Jean Grey without her usual smile. "I got your message about the time change."

"Really? So you forgot how to tell time," Rogue remarked about Jean's earliness.

"No, I couldn't stay at the Institute any longer," Jean told her as she leaned against the counter Rogue was sitting on. The redhead turned to her left. "I'm psychic; I know you're there, Remy. You don't have to hide."

The Cajun's head popped up from behind the aisle. "I wasn' hidin'. I lost my contact." Jean rolled her eyes.

"So where is your siamese twin?" the employee asked.

"Siamese twin?" Jean raised her eyebrows questionably.

Remy knew what she was talking about. "De guy attached to you at de mouth."

"Oh, Scott went to go pick up his brother in Mexico," Jean informed them. "What kind of idiot gets stranded in another country? And what kind of guy goes after him?" she exclaimed.

"A surfer and a gullible brother," the Rogue answered. She had a feeling about what was coming next. She turned on her "Kitty listening ear." _What about meh makes everyone want ta confess? Some days ah think ah should start wearing a white collar. Maybe ah should start a roadside psychiatric booth like Lucy from the Peanuts._

Remy noticed a change in the atmosphere. "You two are goin' start talkin' girl talk, non?"

"Ah don' talk girl talk," Rogue told him.

Remy didn't believe her. "You are," he groaned. He started backing up to the door. "I'll be leavin' now. I should probably find John. He's been AWOL fo' a couple days now."

"Check the Brotherhood?" Rogue figured he'd be with Wanda.

"My first stop," he answered. "Hopefully I won' find anything compromising. I forgot de camera. De morgue is my second guess. So you'll be here tomorrow?"

Rogue nodded. "Why?"

"I might have to come by and imagine some pink hot pants," he smiled coyly.

"You really want more staples in your -" Rogue started.

"You don't have any more staples," he interrupted, grinned and left.

Rogue instantly checked her gun: Empty. "Damn him."

"He was here all afternoon, wasn't he?" Jean asked her.

"What if he was?" was Rogue's non-committal response.

"Nothing. I don't want to get into it tonight. You know what I think of him."

There was silence in the store aside from Warren's rolling. Rogue didn't bother saying anything. She knew Jean's thoughts were focussed too much on her own problems tonight. Rogue knew all too well from living with Kitty that Jean would start confessing again in a minute.

Sure enough: "I have this feeling that Scott's in danger."

"Uh-huh."

"No it's more than just a feeling," Jean restated. "I had this dream, but it felt more real than that. I think that something bad is happening to him."

Rogue didn't understand why her teammate was telling her this. "What do ya want meh ta do 'bout it?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can do about it." Jean sighed.

"So, why are ya tellin' meh this again? Shouldn't ya be talkin' to Storm or the Professor?" she asked.

"I already told the Professor," Jean confessed. "He didn't believe me. He said that Scott is out of range of his powers, much less mine."

"But ya don't agree with 'im," the Goth complete Jean's thought.

"It felt so real and urgent," the telepath pleaded. She looked down at her hands. "But the Professor is probably right. I'm overreacting. If the Professor can't reach Scott telepathically, then how can I?"

Rogue, always one to follow her instincts, didn't agree with Jean's downplay. "Ah remember when your powers went all crazy. I siphoned off some o' your power, but there was so much raw energy behind it, ah wouldn't cut your powers short."

"You think I could be right?"

"Anything is possible," Rogue said. "An' if you're wrong, what's the worst thing that can happen? You're embarrassed fo' ten minutes."

"You're right." Jean's confidence was raised for an instant before self-doubt kicked back in. "But how do I find out? I don't even know where in Mexico he went?" Rogue had nothing to add to that, but luckily Jean continued. "I guess I have to wait until I can call him at his brother's house in Hawaii tomorrow morning," she sighed. "Thanks for listening anyway, Rogue. Anyone else at the Institute would tell me I was being crazy or overreacting and that I'd feel so silly when Scott gets back safe and sound. I knew you wouldn't."

"Of course ya did, you're a psychic."

The door to the office crashed open against the wall. "That's it, I'm done. There is nothing going on here, we're leaving early," Ashley announced. She ran to the front door and locked it. "Count down the drawer, Rogue."

"Already done." Rogue popped open the drawer and took it to the backroom to copy the numbers to the official paperwork.

"Great, thinking ahead," Ashley actually complemented. "Warren, clean up your mess and let's get the hell out of here." In five minutes the shop was cleaned, darkened, and closed for the night.

* * *

(1) Quote from _The Princess Bride_.  
(2) Last two lines adjusted from _X-Men: The Animated Series_. Except they were said by Wolverine and Rogue.  
(3) Read _The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy _series by Douglas Adams.

(4) See Chapter 13: Something Like Rex Manning Day  
(5) Inspired by first scene of _Gilmore Girls_ episode "Pulp Fiction."  
(6) The legend was that two cousins of the Czar Nicholas invited Rasputin to dinner. They poisoned both his wine and his cakes but he didn't die. Then one of them shot Rasputin in the head and left him for dead. When he came back a little later he found Rasputin consious and trying to escape. The monk tried to choke the guy then ran. He was then shot several times. To be sure they tied him up and tossed him in a river. When they found his body downstream, Rasputin's bonds were untied but his arms and legs were broken from the fall so he couldn't swim. The Russians then decapatated him to be sure. Supposedly the autopsy revealed that he had a shitload of water in his lungs and had died by drowning. But recent investigations(2004) into Rasputin's murder show that British Intellegance was pulling the strings and a British Secret Serviceman actually shot Rasputin fatally square in the forehead. For more info check out BBC.  
(7) Snogging = kissing/making out. Snogging is actually british slang. I'm not sure if they use it in Australia or not, but I love the word so I used the word.

(8) From _Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_ series by Douglas Adams.  
(9) For the older audience with a sense of humor, to hear more "coffee-house propaganda" go to illwillpress and watch Foamy the Squirrel's "Small, Medium, and Large."  
(10) Taken from randomnimity's review of the last chapter.  
(11) Artist of Sasdam-a-go-go played in _Empire Records_ but not on the soundtrack.


	19. So, What's the Verdict?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's. Except the humans Sly, Ania (inspired by ishandahalf), Jamal, Ashley, and Laura "Warren".

A/N: Only two months this time! That's a 900% improvement!

* * *

_thoughts_

**telepathy**

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Nineteen: So, What's the Verdict?**

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, her alarm clock yelled at her to get up. A pale hand emerged from under the covers to beat some sense into it. The clock silenced. The owner of the hand groaned and turned over.

"Rogue, you've hit that thing four times already, if you don't get up now you'll totally be late for work," the early bird Kitty Pryde informed her roommate. There was a muffled response from the pillow. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you with your mouth, like, full of cotton."

"Ah said, 'what do ya care?'" came a very tired and articulate response from the pillow person.

Kitty stopped tossing clothes from her closet and came to sit down at the end of Rogue's bed. She put her hand on the lump. "I'm your friend and roommate, Rogue. Of course I care."

Rogue turned over onto her back and threw her comforter off. She squinted, then rubbed her right eye and yawned. "Fine, fine, ya goody-goody two-shoes. I'll get up." She lifted herself to her elbows for five seconds. Then she collapsed back down on the bed. "In a minute." The lethargic goth turned onto her side and pulled her comforter back over with her. Only her face peeked out.

"Whatever/" Kitty sighed and went back to her clothes.

Rogue watched her with curiosity as she woke up. "What are ya doin'?"

"Getting dressed, obviously." Kitty held a shirt up to her chest, made a face, then tossed it back into her closet.

"Fo' what? There a Fashion Club meetin' at Quinn's house (1)?" the covers guessed.

"No," Kitty said in a disdained manner. "For your information, I'm going to the library to work on an art history project."

"Do they have some new librarian eye candy fo' ya?" Rogue inquired.

"Why can't I just want to look good, for the sake of looking good?" Kitty asked in frustrated tone.

"'Cause ya ain' dressing justa look good," Rogue gave up on her five extra minutes and sat upright. The floor was cold on her bare feet. "You are dressing to impress. Who is he?" Rogue could not be fooled.

"No one!" Kitty unconvincingly declared. She finally found a suitable shirt and tossed it on her bed. "I'm going to the library to work on my art history. Piotr might stop by to help me out and we talked about maybe grabbing a bite to eat. That's it."

"Peter," Rogue teased as she got up to shuffle though her pile of clean clothes on the floor. _Or is this the dirty pile_? Rogue picked up a shirt to smell.

"What do you mean 'Peter?'" the Chicago native imitated Rogue's tone of voice as best she could.

"Ya are dressin' up ta look good for Peter." Rogue added, "Ta make him drool."

"I am not," Kitty childishly argued. Rogue just looked her in the eye and smiled. Kitty blushed. "So what?" The girl turned away from the knowing goth and concentrated on putting her clothes back in the closet.

"Nothin'," Rogue said nonchalantly and picked up some clean smelling clothes to change into.

"At least I'm not playing hard to get with a French tease," Kitty retorted.

"Ah'm glad Ah'm not either," Rogue said pulling her fresh shirt over her head. She successfully got the form fitting tank top over the correct part of her body and pulled at the bottom of her shirt to cover her belly-button.

"You are so in denial," Kitty chided.

Rogue popped her hip and looked disdainfully at her roommate. "Ah don' even know anyone who's French."

"UGGH," Kitty grunted in frustration and crumbled the shirt in her hands. "You know who and what I'm talking about so stop playing dumb."

"Good idea, Ah'll leave that up ta ya an' your 'art history' tutorin' session," Rogue said with a satisfactory grin. The goth thought for a second. "Are you even takin' art history?"

"Yes," Kitty replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I have it with Kurt fourth period,"

There was a pause for another second while Rogue thought. "Ah don' remember Kurt talkin' 'bout any project." Kitty remained silent and put her clothes in her hamper, not making any eye contact with Rogue. "There ain' any art project, is there?" she guessed.

The grade-A student blushed. "Yes, there is!" she defended loudly. "An extra credit project."

Despite the fact that the sentence was barely above a whisper and the house was beginning to bustle with Saturday morning cartoon goers, Rogue laughed unrestrainedly when she heard it.

"Oh, shut up," Kitty weakly retorted. When the goth didn't stop laughing, the sophomore stuck out her tongue and phased to another part of the mansion.

A few seconds after she left, Rogue was able to swallow her amusement and continue with her normal morning preparations. Midway through throwing her comforter neatly over her unmade bad, a head popping out from the mattress frightened her.

"Geezzz, Kit!!" Rogue jumped. "Ah stopped laughin' a couple minutes ago, ya didn' have ta try an' scare 'em out o' me!"

"Sorry," Kitty replied sheepishly. "I just wondered if you could, like, drop me at the library before you go to work."

"Ah'm gettin' a ride with Jean today so ya'll have to ask her," Rogue told the seemingly severed head.

"Jean took off hours ago," Kitty informed her roommate. "Apparently Scott's little brother had no clue about the Mexico thing and has been in Hawaii the whole time."

_So Jean's vision was right. Ah bet Professor X's kickin' himself fo' not believin' her now._ "Looks like ah'm stealin' Red's car for today. So that's why ya were so insistent Ah get up fo' work. Ya needed a ride," Rogue accused.

Kitty didn't deny it. "Will you give me a ride or not?"

Her roommate thought for a moment. "Ah'll give ya a ride, but Ah'm leavin' in thirty minutes, with o' without ya."

The valley girl gave her a perky smile. "Thanks Rogue!" Her head disappeared back into the bed.

* * *

Thirty-eight minutes later a gasping girl from the windy city ran through the lower level of Xavior's mansion with a heavy book bag on her back. "I'm coming!!" she yelled as she phased into the garage. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jean's car. Kitty caught her breath for a second before running through Scott's red convertible and the back seat of Jean's car. "Thanks _so_ much for waiting for me, Rogue!" Kitty exclaimed to the empty driver's seat. "Huh?" The girl phased to the passenger seat for a better look. She heard the inside door to the garage open and someone fumble with keys.

Kitty's eyes widened and her face set in an angry pose. The working girl unlocked the driver's side door and hopped in. Rogue didn't acknowledge Kitty as she moved the seat forward and adjusted the mirror while the garage door was going up.

Kitty finally burst. "You _lied_ to me!"

Rogue blinked casually and faced her roommate. "Ah did ya a favor."

"By telling me you were leaving before you were, so I had to run through the house like madwoman trying to get here on time?!"

"Ya were still late," Rogue pointed out. "An' ah was serious when Ah said Ah would leave without ya."

"I can't believe you, Rogue." Kitty bounced back into the passenger seat and crossed her arms. "How am I ever going to trust you again?" Rogue rolled her eyes at the melodrama.

* * *

Rogue parked in the back of the building and waited for Ashley to arrive to unlock the door before getting out of Jean's car. _If any suspicious characters come mah way, ah'll just run them over repeatedly _(2)_. Hell, ah might just run some people over just fo' the fun o' it. Ah need ta vent mah frustrations now before ah have ta survive another day o' workin' with Ashley. Why someone else couldn't sub for Jamal, Ah'll never know. At least Sly will be there today ta buffer meh a bit._ Then she remembered about Sly and Ashley's history, and she groaned. _Or maybe it'll be worse 'cause Ah'll have to buffer him from her. _

Rogue jumped when someone knocked on her window. "Let's go slacker," Ashley said before turning her back and heading to the backdoor of the store. Rogue considered staying in the car and being obstinate for a second, but instead sighed and opened her door instead.

"Hurry up and get inside before the crowd sees you!" Ashley tried to quicken the other girls pace after she unlocked the door.

Rogue passed Ashley on her way in. "The crowd?"

"Yes, crowd, more than three people in the same place at the same time," the punk princess defined. "You can't tell me you didn't see the mass of people gathered out front."

Rogue grew concerned. "No, Ah didn' come around front, Ah parked in back. What's goin' on?"

Ashley turned on the light in the back room and headed to the time clock. "Open the door and see for yourself."

Rogue headed to the door that lead to the main part of Vinyl Vintage. She opened the door a crack and stuck just her head out. At least twenty people stood outside the doors, and they didn't want the new Tool CD. They were chanting and marching. A few had picket signs. One was setting up a table to put coffee on. Rogue's eyes widened and she quickly ducked back into the back room before they saw her.

"They don' know Ah'm here," Rogue said. "Ah could leave now an' then they'll just go home an' not give ya any problems. No one'll get hurt that way."

"What? You don't want to go out and meet your adoring fans?" Ashley questioned sarcastically. "Girl, they are here to stay whether you are here or not. I'm not going to stop you from leaving if you want to, but you won't have a job here if you come back. If you stay I could make you work in the back room or the office all day and they will never know. But I guarantee that it will make no difference to them. If they are smart, they have already made up their minds whether or not they will be causing trouble today and have their guardian angels picked out and informed so they can bail them out later."

"How do ya know so much 'bout protesting'?" the goth asked.

Ashley smiled. "Didn't you know? I'm an anarchist."

Rogue didn't buy it for a second. "Ya are not. Ya're more like a dictator." Rogue could see Ashley or someone like her taking over Cuba after Fidel Castro finally died (3).

She shrugged. "Either way I don't like to be bossed around." Ashley walked out of the back room and headed into Jamal's office. Rogue watched her pick up the phone through the window.

"What are ya doin'?" Rogue opened the door to ask.

"Makin' sure the cops know in case we need some crowd control." Ashley shooed Rogue away with her hand as someone picked up on the other end.

The X-Woman considered her options: _One, go home. _She took another peak out into the main room. Three more people had arrived. _If Ah go back ta the mansion, then Ah'm only savin' myself. These people would have scared meh out o' mah job and met one o' their goals. Ashley's right. _It killed Rogue to admit that_. If Ah were ta leave, they would still stay an' want ta make an example outta a mutant friendly establishment. They are protesting mah workin' here as much as Jamal sellin' ta anyone he pleases. So ah guess Ah'm stayin'._

_Two, work unseen in the back room. Again only savin' myself an' mah job. They will still be there an' have successfully scared meh inta not showin' mah face. Ah'm not a coward. They can' frighten meh from goin' an' doin' what Ah want ta do. Plus, workin' in the back room all day is gonna be borin' as hell._

_Three, work on as if nothin' is goin' on. As if this is as normal as last Saturday. No, that's not a good example. Nothin' in mah life is ever normal, least of all last weekend._ Rogue sighed. _Why does everythin' have ta be so complicated? Mah workin', life at the institute, Remy... Ah don' want life ta be simple an' easy, but could ah get a break once in a while?_ Rogue realized her thoughts had wandered off in an unforeseen tangent and brought them back on task. _So it looks as if Ah'm stayin' here an' workin' out there. With only glass separating meh an' the people who want ta see meh dead in a dumpster. There has gotta be a better way ta go 'bout this day than just ignorin' them. There has gotta be a way ah can make mah own little protest in here._ Rogue racked her brain. She came up empty.

Ashley came out of the office. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Ah'm stayin' an' Ah prefer not ta be banished ta the back room." _The rest Ah'll have ta take as it comes_. Ashley shrugged and entered the store. Rogue put her hand on doorknob. She took a deep breath and passed through the unfeeling door and into a world just as cold, hard, unbending, and unsympathetic.

* * *

"Thanks so much for coming out to help me with my art history project," Kitty praised Piotr Rasputin as they walked from the library to a nearby gyro shop. Piotr had met Kitty at the library shortly after noon, brainstormed for an hour, then decided that they needed to refuel before continuing.

"It was not a problem," Piotr smiled and held open the door to the restaurant for her. They went inside and ordered sandwiches, hummus, a salad, drinks and sat down at a table. Their conversation continued merrily and lightheartedly. They talked about art, schooling, and life in their prospective homes. Piotr was having a great time. Kitty did not get the least bit upset when he could not remember the words or would accidentally switch back to his native Russian. She would just smile and ask him questions and try and give him the word he wanted. He learned a lot just listening to her speak too. He was teaching her about art, a universal language, and she was helping him with her spoken language.

Piotr was telling Kitty about one of the many exciting afternoons that come as a consequence of living with a crazed pyromaniac, a Cajun flirt, and a volatile mutant weapon when the atmosphere suddenly changed. The expression on Kitty's face turned from happy and interested, to confused, to frightened, to angry. Piotr noticed that her eyes had moved from his face to their uncovered drinks sitting on the table. They were moving, slowly vibrating toward the edges of the table. Kitty then glared out the nearest window until she spotted who she was looking for.

There stood Lance Alvers, Avalanche, member of the Brotherhood of Mutants, recent ex-boyfriend of one Katherine Pryde. He had hurt and anger in his eyes and an Ace Hardware bag in his hand. He had decided to walk to the hardware store since he didn't have any money to put gas into his Jeep, and it was probably one of the last nice days before the cold was going to hit. He always liked taking a walk alone, it cleared his head, helped him think. The only thing he liked more was aimlessly driving, which required a lot more money than it used to so walking had to do.

It was on a whim that he looked into the gyro shop. He had never eaten there before, but Fred said they had good food and the daughter of the owner worked there, and she was pretty hot. He wasn't hungry and had no money, so he glanced in the window. There, sitting at a table, smiling and giggling was his Kitty. _No, not my Kitty anymore. _He clenched his fists. _Not anyone else, my ass_.

He stood outside the joint, frozen in his spot. He waited there until Kitty noticed him. It wasn't long before her head turned his way. She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back into the table behind her. With a fixed "I mean business" look on her face, she marched straight through the booth next to the window, disgusting the family eating there, and then through the window itself.

"Knock it off, Lance," Kitty sternly told him. Lance unclenched his fists and the shaking stopped. He didn't even realize that he was doing it.

"'No one else, huh?" Lance spat at her and threw his arm in Piotr's direction. Piotr wasn't sure what to do, so he remained sitting and watched for the time being.

"Piotr is helping me with my art history project," Kitty defended once again that day. "We got hungry. This is not a date!"

"Yeah, right," Lance doubted. "That's not what it looked like to me."

Kitty put bluntly. "Well, you're wrong."

"I can't believe you, Kitty!" Lance yelled. "It's one thing to break up with me to go out with tin can, but you _lied_ to me! You told me there wasn't anyone else. That you had some soul searching thing you wanted to go on."

"But I'm not going out with him!" Kitty stomped the ground for effect and to relieve a bit of her frustration.

"Yeah, keep saying that if it will help you sleep at night," Lance shot back. "Were you always this flaky and fickle?! Did I mean anything to you?!"

Kitty grew red and tears formed behind her eyes from anger and hurt. "Of course you did! I'm not trying to hurt you, Lance! I'm just trying to find out what _I_, like, want and need! And it surely isn't you!" Kitty only added that last line to hurt him like his words hurt her. She didn't really mean it. She wasn't sure of anything at this point. Was she on a date? Is that was Piotr thought? Rogue certainly implied that earlier that day. Was she dressed for a date? She looked down at her clothes. She certainly put the time into her outfit as if it were a date.

The words stung Lance just as Kitty wanted them to. "FINE! I don't care! Why did I ever want to go out with a preppy little nerd like you, I'll never know! You always looked down on me, Kitty! Like I wasn't good enough to be with you, and you were doing me a favor by dating me! Well you're wrong, I'm not a charity case!" He stormed off.

Kitty stood outside for a moment yet. Piotr finally decided that he should act. He came out and put his large hands lightly on her shoulders. "Are you feeling okay?"

Kitty sniffled and responded curtly. "Fine." And she ran inside to the bathroom to cry.

Again, Piotr did not know what to do. He was not used to the drama of a city girl, or girls in general for that matter. He went back to their table and cleaned up. Kitty was still in the bathroom when he had finished, so he gathered up the leftovers and stood outside the door. After two minutes, he hadn't heard anything from the tiny room, so he decided to knock. Just as his hand was about to make contact with the door, it opened. A red-eyed Kitty emerged.

"I had your hummus put in a box for you," was all Piotr could think of to say.

''Thanks," the girl said quietly. "Piotr," she addressed, looking up at him, straight in the eye. "I want to make sure that we are on the same page here: This isn't a date. I want to be friends with you and get to know you better, but I'm not ready to date anyone just yet. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Piotr said and almost hid all of his disappointment from his voice. But if there was one thing Piotr was, he was patient, and he realized that he did have a better chance of eventually being with Kitty than anyone else he knew. With that thought, he smiled and said, "We should be returning to the library to finish?"

Kitty returned the smile. "Yes, let's." And the two left the gyro house and headed back toward the building with the books.

* * *

A young woman with short cropped black and red hair sighed as she looked in the spotty mirror of the upstairs bathroom at the Brotherhood house. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and leaned into the reflective surface. She brought her right hand to left eye and tried to keep her eye from blinking with her left hand. Her black eyeliner pencil had almost reached her eyelid when her hand began to shake.

"Bugger," she said, using her boyfriend's slang, and put her pencil down on the bathroom counter. The pencil and her other make-up began to move around and fall into the sink. Wanda then realized that it wasn't her hand that was shaking, but the whole house.

A scowl formed on Wanda's face as she stomped over to the bathroom window that faces the front yard. She violently threw open the screenless window and leaned her entire upper body out of it. "LANCE!! IF YOU DON'T KNOCK IT OFF RIGHT NOW, I'LL CASTRATE YOU LIKE THE YELLOW BASTARD (3.5)!!"

The Witch brought herself back inside and slammed the window shut. Again, she approached the mirror with the evil, but necessary pencil. Again she almost reached contact when someone's stair stomping broke her concentration.

"LANCE!" she threw open the door and yelled. "So help me, I will find a hole in your body you didn't know you had and forcibly insert my eyeliner into it if you do not knock it off! After I finally put it on, of course."

"Stupid women," Lance declared. Wanda did not receive that well. Lance was electrocuted by the ceiling light in the hallway that had just fallen on his head.

"What's your problem?!" Lance shouted at her once he regained his senses.

"Stupid men and eyeliner," Wanda again leaned into the mirror and attempted to put the make-up on. With one eye completed, the Witch stood upright to examine her work, "What the hell is yours?"

"Stupid women, or woman, I should say," the electro shock therapy had calmed and focused Lance's anger a little better. "Hell, she isn't even a woman; she's a spoiled little brat."

"Kitty?" Wanda guessed and leaned into the mirror again to finish her challenge. She figured that if she keep Lance talking and pretended to be interested in his love life that he wouldn't try and move the house off the foundation again.

"Yeah, she broke up with me Monday and today I saw her on a date with that tin can from Magneto's pet group." He stood up and leaned on the doorway to the bathroom.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," the girl told him as she rummaged in her make-up bag. "It's not like she cheated on you or betrayed you. You aren't together anymore. Why can't she date Petey?"

"Because she told me there was no one else and that's not why she broke up with me! She tried telling me she wasn't sure what she wanted, and she wanted to find herself or some crap like that. Bullshit! She just found someone better," Lance told the listening Witch. "I bet she even went out with him before we broke up too."

"I doubt it. She's a little too honest and innocent for that," Wanda commented as she applied her burgundy eye shadow.

"We _had_ something," Lance continued rant, "and she _lied_ to me. It's not that easy to get over someone who was so important in your life for so long. What would you do if that fire guy you've been seeing broke it off with you and then went out on a date with. . . Jean Grey less than a week later?"

"John would never go out with Jean," Wanda retorted avoiding the question. _But what would I do? Would I want to kill him for tossing me aside? Abandoning me like my father? Would I want to take vengeance on the slut? Would I cry? What would I do?_ Wanda left those questions to ponder on a future date. "Our relationship is very different than yours and Kitty's."

"How?" Lance wanted to know.

"It's..." Wanda pulled her mascara brush from its casing. "I don't know what it is, but it's nothing like your relationship with Kitty. What did you like about her anyway?" Wanda threw the conversation back to Lance.

"I don't know." After a short pause he continued, "I guess because she always saw the best in me. Made me want to be better. Be the person she saw in me."

"And you can't see that in yourself?" she asked as her eyelashes thickened.

"I can now," Lance said. "But not before."

"Well at least you got something out of it," Wanda sent some perspective Lance's way.

"Yeah," he agreed, "but I didn't want it to end. Not like this."

"But it;s done," she pointed out. "She has obviously moved on. Quite quickly, I might add. Now that you know this new stuff about her, do you really want to date her again?"

"Yes," Lance said without hesitation. "It was nice, having someone."

"Kitty;s not the only someone in the world," Wanda told him.

"She was the only someone in my world," he mumbled and looked at the floor.

"I hope you don't expect me to mop up your tears," Wanda gave up the consoling session turned pity fest. She pulled out her lip liner. "John and Remy will be here soon."

"I wasn't gonna to cry," Lance defended. "If you don't want to talk about me anymore let's talk about you. What in the hell possessed you to go out with the pyromaniac? Didn't you have enough of the crazy people in the asylum?"

"I was in solitary," Wanda pointed out. "I saw the guards, tutors, and the bald man, that's it. At night I'd hear the crazies, but it was mostly crying and screaming." The Witch was now ready for her blood red lip stick. "And I don't have to justify who I hang out with to you."

"Humor me." Lance crossed his arms and leaned sideways against the doorway. "I spilled my guts."

"I didn't ask."

"But you played the game."

"I didn't realize that it was a mutual event," she said.

"Too bad, it's your turn. Do his insane antics turn you on?"

"No," she said in an irritated tone. The Witch sighed and decided that she had nothing to lose by confessing, aside from an annoying house mate. "Don't get me wrong, John is insane. And I think he has ADD. But aside from that he....I don't know.

"Let me put it this way, even though Mystique got me out of the asylum, I was still a prisoner there until I met John. I didn't think I could live my life until my father's life was ended, painfully, by me. Until restitution was paid. Only after that could I have my life back. But John made me realize that I already had my life back. And that my life won't wait to happen until I kill Magneto, although that is still one of my short-term goals."

_I'm almost free. Like I'm on probation. Once Magneto is gone from my life, I'll be totally free. But until then, I can still enjoy myself._

Wanda went on without being prompted. "John can find good times in just about anything, no matter how lame. That's one of the things that's great about him. And he really isn't that scared of me. Well, there was that one time I came after him with a cleaver, but other than that -"

Lance interjected. "A cleaver? Then it is true. You two are the kinkiest couple in Bayville."

Wanda, with her face now complete, slowly and dramatically turned her head to the mutant in the doorway. "I'm done with you today," she said and hexed him across the hall into Toad's room. Then she slammed and locked the door to the bathroom.

With nothing else to do, Lance picked himself up and went downstairs to watch television. Halfway down the stairway the front door burst open. "Wanda, luv!" St. John Allerdyce shouted. "We're here! Oh, hello, mopey Joe."

Let's just say that Lance did not enjoy being called "mopey Joe." As he finished coming downstairs and shoved the Aussie into the hall closet door. St. John was very confused and his face showed it, "Huh? What'd I do to you, mate?" Remy thought about opening a can of whop-ass on the boy, but his hands were full with bags of fast food, and he didn't want to waste it after all they went through to get it.

"You owe me gas money, _mate_," Lance told him and stepped back with his arms crossed. Lance was able to patch up his front tires with Todd's slime so he was saved from that expense and didn't bring it up. John took some space from the wall and looked down at his pants. He turned out his empty pockets, then shrugged. Lance's expression didn't change.

John got a brainstorm and pointed to the imaginary light bulb above his head. He walked over to Remy grabbed a bag of food and pulled out a large fry and offered it to Lance. "Greasy chips of peace?"

Lance let his arms fall and snatched the french fries. "I'll consider this a down payment." Lance turned and walked into the living room.

"Don't worry, Don Corleone! Next time, I'll bring cannolis!" John shouted after him. (4)

Lance smiled at the reference to his favorite movies. "Don't forget the cannolis, Clemenza!" (4)

"We're not goin' back out to get cannolis," Remy declared as Wanda came down the stairs.

"Why not?" John looked questionably up at Remy.

"Because we already went to four places before we were even served," Remy reminded the Aussie. "And d'en two more because you had cravings!"

"Forget where you were blacklisted at?" Wanda guessed.

"Non, John wanted four more on de list," Remy growled.

John did the opposite and smiled proudly. "An even fourteen. That's a multiple of forty-two!" Then he frowned and slouched,."But the fourth place served us despite my antics."

"He tap danced on a table an' everythin'," Remy described. "He put Fred Astaire to shame."

"That old pansy has nothing on me," John bragged.

"D'at's not what I meant by 'puttin' Fred Astaire to shame,'" Remy clarified.

"What?! I was beautiful and graceful, and not a hundred and two and trying to bang a twenty-eight year old Audrey Hepburn (5)," John argued.

"I can imagine," Wanda said dryly. "Are we going or are we going to sit here and critique John's dance technique all day?"

"You wanna see?" the boy asked eagerly.

"No," Wanda said and pulled him by his shirt collar out the front door after Remy.

* * *

"Is someone throwing a barbie (6) downtown or what?" John exclaimed as he tried to weave through the backed up traffic and people.

"I don' know," Remy answered as he stared out his window at all the people. "Stop here, I'll walk the rest o' de way. You guys find somewhere to park."

"Okay boss." John saluted Remy as he popped out of the back seat.

As Remy walked toward Vinyl Vintage, the crowd only seemed to get thicker. _What in de world is goin' on?_ he asked himself. Across the street from the store, he got his answer. For the past few hours the masses had accumulated. Some people spilled out into the streets which was probably causing the traffic back up. The sidewalks in front of the store were packed shoulder to shoulder with people chanting. Those with signs and sandwich boards gave up on pacing and were just wiggling their signs and yelling. The card table that was set up for coffee was gone and replaced with someone serving drinks and sandwiches out of the back of their trucks and a van.

The Cajun mutant took a second to take it all in. _Mon deiu_. He readjusted his sunglasses over his telltale eyes and crossed the street between the barely moving automobiles. Once he got to the main concentration of the crowd it was harder to move. It was like trying to get to the bar at a packed club on a Saturday night. You pretty much stood in the same place for ten minutes before elbowing the person in front of you to get by.

At least Remy was able make his way into the crowd a lucrative one. After a few minutes he managed to get within six feet of the store. Then someone's arm got tired. A picket sign came down, knocking Remy on the side of the head.

"Hey!" he yelled at the perpetrator. The man looked to him to apologize, but stopped with his mouth hanging open. Remy recognized that look and his hand flew up to his face: His sunglasses had fallen off when he was hit in the head.

"MUTIE!!!" The man with the tired arm screamed. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stopped chanting and turned to stare at the boy with the black and red glowing eyes.

Remy knew he was in trouble and tried to reach into his trench coat for his cards. But there were too many people closing in. He was a sardine in a can. He felt himself being lifted up off the ground, a moment later he was crowd surfing on his back. The mutant had become so turned around in the crowd that he didn't know which direction they were moving him in, but he would soon find out.

* * *

When they looked out the windows of the store, all they could see were bodies. No one in Vinyl Vintage could believe that that so many anti-mutant people in Bayville. Most of them didn't realize that Bayville even had that large of a population. Sly had tried to drown out the sounds of their vulgar sayings with music, but only succeeded in making everyone in the store have to yell at each other to hear. Not that there was anyone in the store besides the four employees: Sly, Ashley, Rogue and Warren. Oh, and one girlfriend: Ania, but she didn't have any money to buy anything. She was there purely for moral support. And it was a reason for her to procrastinate doing her research paper that was due next week.

If anyone had wanted to come into Vinyl Vintage that day, the mob outside discouraged them from trying. Instead the employees occupied their time cleaning and organizing. Let's not forget the bickering and the boredom.

Rogue and Warren took a break from miscellaneous chores and sat on the floor with Ania. All three watched the mob and made fun of some of the people in it.

"Wow, Sly!" Ania yelled over the music and across the store where Sly was doing something extremely boring.

"What?!" He yelled back.

"What kind of mullet is that one?" Ania asked. "Rogue thinks it is a camero mullet, Warren has her money on a second cousin, and I think it's a MacGyver."

Sly walked over and squinted at the crowd. "Which one?"

"That one." She pointed to someone off to the right.

"You're all wrong. It's not long enough for a camero mullet," the expert corrected. "A second cousin is usually shorter on top and doesn't have bangs, and that's a girl so it can't be a MacGyver."

All three strained and squinted at the mullet person. "That's a girl?"

"Yes," Sly declared.

"So what is it then?"

"Katrina and the Waves." The punk turned and headed back to his work.

Rogue looked out the window again, "No way. Ya are just makin' this up as ya go." The Goth was then elbowed in the stomach.

Ania put her finger to her lips and whispered, "Not so loud! He'll get out the field guide."

Her eyes widened. "A field guide?"

"Hey look!" Warren directed their attention back outside. "They must really like Sly's music; it's starting to look like a Metallica concert out there!"

Sure enough, the protesters had just lifted someone up above them. He was being passed around like a hot potato. The three girls were mesmerized by the event since it was the most exciting thing they had seen all day. Then Rogue's wonder faded. The crowd surfer was being passed closer and closer to the store.

Then it hit her. "Get back!" she screamed. They moved quickly to the back of the main room. Barely a second after they reached their new position, the crowd surfer was thrown into store through a window.

"Uhh," the man groaned.

"Remy!" Rogue screamed and ran to his side. She helped him up and moved him back to Ania, Warren, and Sly.

Ashley came out of Jamal's office where she was catching up on paperwork when she heard the crash. "What is going on out here?!"

"The mob decided ta help our first customer through the window," Rogue replied in an eerily cheerful voice. "Wasn' that nice?"

"That's it," Ashley declared. "The cops are coming here now! They should have been here already to arrest those people in the street because I seriously doubt they have a parade permit! If you'll excuse me, I'll be yelling into the office phone for a while. You two, patch the window before we get some unfriendlies running around in here." She walked back into the office and slammed the door behind her. Warren went off into the back room to get the supplies as Rogue helped Remy get settled.

Remy leaned heavily on Rogue until she got him onto a stool. "D'ey be callin' me your boyfriend out d'ere. You should go out and correct 'em, no?"

Rogue didn't make a move. "Ah don' think Ah'll bother."

Remy looked surprised. "You gonna let d'em be misguided or do you secretly wish it were true?" He smiled.

Rogue went on examining his head for any deep gashes. "Ah figure that they're wrong 'bout a lotta things an' that it would be too much work ta educate 'em all."

Warren reemerged from the back room with the materials to patch up their second broken window (6.5), and Rogue went to search for some ice and the first aid kit for Remy. Ania volunteered to patch up the Cajun so the Goth could help Warren with the window.

"We're outta staples." The kid handed Rogue the staple gun.

"Remy!" Rogue called. "Ah need the staples (6.5)."

"No," he refused. "I don' trust you wit' d'em. I didn' hit my head d'at hard."

"Ya are gonna give meh those staples, swamp rat." Rogue stomped up to look at him menacingly in the eye.

"You truly are beautiful when you're angry." The boy smiled without fear.

Rogue swiftly brought her foot underneath the legs of the stool and flipped it. But Remy was expecting it and nimbly caught himself standing before the chair fell. Unfortunately for Remy, he had forgotten that he had rolled his ankle in the fall. The sudden weight on his ankle made him wince in pain and stumble forward into Rogue, who caught him.

Remy looked up at Rogue from his awkward position. "You must _really _like my ass to be savin' it all de time."

The employee just rolled her eyes exhaustedly and dropped him. She then bent down and started searching through the pockets of his trench coat.

"Gentle, chere," Remy joked. "I'm not healed enough from de fall to be doin' anythin' too rough yet."

Without a quip response coming to her lips, the Goth became embarrassed. Rogue found the staples and was able to turn away before blushing. She quickly walked back to Warren, careful not to let Remy see her reddened face before she got it under control. She loaded the staple gun and looked at her task.

She and Warren tried to set up the ladder next to the window, but the crowd kept reaching through and jiggling it whenever Rogue tried to climb up it. Rogue grew hot and frustrated and all of their comments being shouted at her were not helping her mood. _Sometimes Ah wish Ah had powers like Jean and just shove these guys back about three feet with a telekinetic wall. _Rogue threw her arms out like she had seen Jean do a million times. "Move back!!!" And, as if like magic, the mob yielded to her wishes.

She was stunned for a second, but a monosyballic comment from Warren snapped her quickly into action. Rogue ran up the ladder and Warren handed her the top of the plastic roll. The mob was recovering quickly so she worked haphazardly to staple the top the vinyl to the window frame and jump off the ladder before anyone could get to her.

The plastic was up, but had horizontal issues. "Great job, did you do the Pisa too?" Warren said sarcastically.

"No one's stoppin' ya from fixin' it," Rogue shot back. "Except those losers out there who like ta play london bridge is fallin' down with the ladder." Warren shut her mouth and helped Rogue make it work. It was a very wrinkly cover job, but it served its purpose. It kept the haters out and the outcasts in.

"This is a music store, not an art gallery." Ashley emerged from the office to comment on window treatment. "I don't care what kind of statement you are making with that, but take it down and make it professional."

"It works," Rogue declared. "Ya want it 'professional' ya go ahead an' fix it yourself."

"Hey, I'm in charge today, and I say fix it," Ashley pulled rank.

"It'll get fixed after the protesters leave," Sly told Ashley.

"No, it'll get fixed now," Ashley argued. "It looks like the building is condemned."

"It will be if we egg on the mob by putting Rogue up against the window again."

"They practically threw her off the ladder the first time," Ania added.

"Who asked you?" Ashley turned to the girlfriend. "You have no authority here."

Sly drew Ashley's attention back to himself. "For the safety of the employees, which is very important to our boss, the window will stay as is until the mob outside vacates."

"Fine," she finally relented. "The cops will be here soon. If they don't get here in twenty minutes, tell me, and I'll make another call." She headed back into Jamal's office, defeated.

After Ashley exited, Rogue finally got a good look at Ania's first aid job on Remy. She didn't even try to restrain her laughter. "You want a Scooby-snack, swamp rat?"

The Cajun's trench coat had protected most of his body from the glass, only his hands, neck and head were covered in little cuts. Ania had clean out the glass from the cuts and covered each one with a Scooby-doo Band-Aid. "De were de only ones in de kit!" he defended.

Meanwhile Ania stared intently at the first aid kit she was repacking and struggled to contain herself. She swallowed her laughter and looked toward the two. "Yup, only the Scoobies." She winked at Rogue then turned away quickly, giggling softly.

Ten minutes later, red and blue flashing lights were seen outside the music store. The protesters crammed each other closer to the store as those in the street tried to fit on the sidewalk. The temporary window covering bowed inward as people pressed themselves into the plastic, but remarkably the plastic held.

Warren informed Ashley of the arrival of the police. "What is taking them so long to get up here?" She said after a few minutes of waiting.

"I don't think they can get through," Ania said as she stood on her toes and looked out over the crowd.

"That's pathetic," the other girl announced.

"What do you expect them to do, eh? Beat them down and walk over them?" Ania asked Ashley.

She shrugged. "Whatever works." Eyes were rolled.

"And now I introduce Ashley," Sly announced, "new lobbyist for police brutality and capital punishment."

"I'm not the one tossing people through windows, knocking people off ladders, and holding up traffic," she defended.

"No, you're just advocating actions that lead to police states," Ania remarked under her breath to her boy.

"Did you say something?" Ashley snapped although she didn't hear the words.

"Not to you." Ania looked the other girl in the eye.

"Something's happening outside," Sly pointed, thankful for the change in direction of the conversation.

All six of the people inside the store watched the scene outside unfolded. They saw the cops back up from the crowd, and stand across the street. Then the people near the door to Vinyl Vintage began to lose their footing. Suddenly the sidewalk in front of the store split and lifted up. The concrete rolled back on itself sending those standing on top of it stumbling to the ground and landing in dog piles of other protesters.

A man with fire orange hair hopped across the road to the door. He took off his jean jacket and tossed in onto the exposed ground. With one hand he opened the door and the other he held out for his companion in red to help her across. But the girl was not one for assistance, she was one for power and independence; so she ignored his hand and stepped across his jacket to enter the front doors. John barely nabbed his jacket before the sidewalk fell back into place. He rushed into the store.

"Welcome to Saudi Arabia, Moes," Sly referred to the way Wanda had parted the crowd to pass.

She didn't understand what Sly was talking about and gave him a funny look. "How'd you know I was Jewish?"

"You're Jewish?" St. John asked for confirmation.

"My family is," the Witch clarified. "I haven't practiced in years."

Sly tried to explain. "I meant you parted the mob was kind of like Moses parting . . . oh, never mind." Sly threw his hands to the side to disregard the comment.

"I always liked Chanukah more than Christmas," John commented.

"Why's that?" Wanda asked.

"D'ink 'bout it," Remy couldn't believe Wanda didn't know instantly why someone like Pyro would prefer Chanukah.

"More fire," she realized.

Behind John and Wanda the police scrambled to secure the area of the sidewalk directly in front of the store before the protesters recovered and filled in. The rookies put up police tape, roping off the entryway while a few other officers with plastic shields posted themselves on the borders. The cops with the shields pushed back the protesters that tried to break and cross the tape.

Now that those in the store could see the street, they saw several marked vans that cops were loading up people on. But the few that were arrested were hardly noticeable. And now that the protesters were forced from spilling into the streets, the people were squeezed further down the block, disrupting a few other businesses unintentionally. There were also a few news crews that had finally managed turn down the block, getting equipment out to film it all and spin it how they wanted.

Rogue tried to crane her neck to see how far the mob went down the street without leaving the building.

Wanda read her mind. "They go all the way down to Jukebox Joe's that way and Pillarbox Gifts in the other. I threw a few of the most vulgar ones down into the sewers, but more popped up."

"I still think they must be cloning them somewhere nearby," John theorized.

Wanda paused and turned her ears to speakers in the music store. "This music is so refreshing."

Rogue looked at her friend like she just sprouted another head. "Since when do ya like Rancid?"

"Oh, I don't," Wanda replied.

"Then why did ya say ya liked it?" she asked.

"Is it John singing 80's pop music?" Wanda asked.

"No."

"That's why."

As if Wanda had made a request and not a complaint, John took that moment to start singing. "'They told him don't you ever hum-de-dum-dum. Don't wanna see your face, you butter disappear. The fire's in their eyes, their words are de-de-here. So beat it, do-do-do, just beat it! (7)'" Then he did a little dance.

"Wow."

"You should here him try and sing in German," Wanda made a faux recommendation. The Witch figured that since she had to endure over thirty minutes of it while trying to find a parking space, that these people could join in her suffering.

And as if on cue, John switch songs, "Hast do Ed vast zignz van enough, dann singin' shine ich ein for dish, von ninety-nine shed luftballons - (8) "

Ashley turned urgently to Remy. "Make him stop singing!" She pointed to St. John.

Before Remy could react Ania exclaimed, "You can't just order people around like that, Ashley. He doesn't even work here!"

The other girl sneered at her. "You want him to stop don't you? Oh, and did you clean your cheek prints off the window yet?"

The Canadian had no intention of following Ashley's orders. "No, I think I'll ask Rogue to stand in front of it for a while so the mob will break it."

* * *

On the side, John stopped singing on his own and asked to be filled in. "What's the big deal about her putting her cheeks on the window?"

"The other kind of cheeks, John-boy," Rogue informed the clueless wonder.

"Oh, OH! Why'd she do that?"

"They wanted ta 'See the mutie's ass under glass,' but Ania hoped hers would do," Rogue whispered as she intently watched the sparking cat fight.

"Did it?"

"Nope, they still wanna see mah ass." Rogue looked over her shoulder and lightly slapped her buttocks for effect.

"D'ey aren't de only ones, chere," Remy added. "I'm glad you decided to wait until I could get here."

"No one is seein' mah ass except meh an' mah gynecologist," she declared.

"We'll see 'bout d'at," Remy smirked. "Some'hing dat sexy shouldn't hidden."

Remy's smirk sparked Rogue's spiteful and ironic side. "Okay, swamp rat. Ya've convinced meh." She marched over to the same window Ania mooned the protesters from. She turned around so her backside was toward the glass. "Ya'd better hurry an' get outside if ya wanna see it fo' the first an' last time in your life." Rogue bent over and undid her belt.

Remy briefly considered running outside then tried to call her bluff. "You're not really gonna go d'rough wit' it."

"Oh really," she raised an eyebrow to the challenge and she dropped trou. Remy's and John's jaws dropped. Wanda half-smiled and nodded in approval. Warren rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, while Sly, Ania, and Ashley couldn't have been paying less attention.

* * *

The girls moved closer to one another after Ania refused to ever clean her cheek prints off the window. "I'm surprised the glass didn't break itself when your fat ass touched it," Ashley insulted.

"I'm sure it's built up a tolerance after having to look at your face all the time," Ania shot back.

"Are you comparing my face to your ass?" she asked.

"Yes, and we all know which is cuter!" Ania answered. "Just ask Sly!"

Sly slipped his arms between the two and tried to put some space between them. "For the sake of peace, I have never made any comment connecting anyone's face to anyone else's ass."

"Why's your little naff here anyway?" Ashley asked. "Planned on getting some in the back room? Must you do everyone there?"

Ania charged to defend herself and her boy, but Sly's arms were there. He moved them around her waist and pulled her back toward him. He whispered something dirty and geeky into her ear and she laughed, releasing her negative emotions.

"Did you intimately complement her or make some stupid comic book analogy?" Ashley knew her ex well.

"I happen to like his geeky analogies!" Ania defended. She wiggled around in Sly's arms to make herself more comfortable and to remind Ashley who was in them, and who wasn't.

Ashley bit her lip as Ania's actions hurt her more than she knew they should. Just as she was about spout out something unthoughtful and hurtful, a slam and a crack interrupted their argument.

All three looked to the butt cheek window and saw Rogue skip a few steps forward while zipping up her pants. The window was cracked in the center where "Katrina" had thrown some unidentifiable hard object.

"Were you provoking them?!" Ashley scolded the mutant.

"All Ah really was ta piss Remy off," Rogue said loudly over the increased shouting and pounding, "but Ah guess Ah did."

Ashley dropped her head into her hand. "I don't have to confine you to the back room, do I?"

"No one is getting confined to the back room," Sly overruled. "We just have to -"

"Have to what?" Ashley shouted over the increasing noise from outside. "How are you going to fix this, oh, all-knowing one?"

One person in the room got an idea of how to handle it. "Let's have some fun." The Scarlet Witch smiled as she turned away from the cracked window and looked to her boyfriend. "Did you bring your scary face today?"

"Sorry." John shrugged. "I must have left it in my other pants. Will my certifiably insane face do?"

"How does d'at different from your normal face?" Remy asked his teammate. Remy turned and started to limp toward Rogue.

John stuck out his foot and tripped Remy. "Ops, sorry, Shaggy," he said without a hint of sincerity.

"Don' call me Shaggy!" Remy's first aid job was a sore spot. From the floor he swept his good foot underneath John and sent him to the floor.

"Okay, Daphne, don't run your pink tights just for me," John continued to tease him.

"At least I'm not crazy old man Winter," Remy shot back at the Aussie.

"Don't make fun of Uncle Winter!" John pounced on top of the Cajun. The crowd outside began to cheer as the two Acolytes wrestled. Wanda rolled her eyes and stepped over the two, heading to the cracked window.

"Yeah!" the crowd shouted. "Finish each other off!" "Save us the trouble!" "Hit 'em with the right! Hit 'em with the right!" "Which one?" "Does it matter?"

John and Remy stopped rolling around. John, who was on top, looked Remy in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but I'm no longer in the mood."

"Me neither," Remy agreed. John rolled off of his friend and stood up. Remy did likewise.

John joined the Scarlet Witch at the cracked window. "So what's the plan, Scarlet?"

"Stare at one and make it menacing." John stood at her side, put on his face, a wicked grin. He didn't blink.

The bells above the door jingling didn't break their stare for a second. A news crew rushed inside, microphones ready. They overwhelmed the two arguing assistant managers. They asked them to wait a minute. Ashley called the other two employees over to huddle.

"Can I join you?" Remy asked after being excluded from the impromptu staff meeting Sly, Ashley, Warren, and Rogue were having near the cash register. Wanda nodded in approval, and Remy stood on her other side fixing his glowing red and black eyes on a single protester.

Ania came over, but sat in the background. "I'd join you, but my scary is pretty laughable. I think I'll leave it to the professionals."

"I don't know," Remy told her without losing his stare. "You looked pretty scary back d'ere wit' Ashley." She shrugged and looked back and forth between the occupants of Vinyl Vintage.

"What do we do with the camera crew?" Warren asked as the four employees huddled behind the counter.

"Should we call Jamal?" Rogue suggested.

"SSHHH!" Sly threw his arms out like a conductor silencing an orchestra. "We need to assess the situation and agree on a course of action before we talk to anyone."

"Great idea, fearless leader," Ashley's voice dripped with sarcasm. She looked over her shoulder at the energized crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one protester scream and run away from the window followed by high-fiving from the other mutants in the store. She turned back to the huddle. "You know that once we close up and leave, the cops go, and they will most likely trash the place." She glanced at the two broken and one cracked window. "If they can wait that long."

"So what do we do?" Rogue asked.

"What _can_ we do?" she replied pessimistically.

Sly stroked his chin hoping it would send some charge up to his brain to jump start his creativity. It worked: He got an idea. "What if we don't close?"

Ashley looked at him skeptically. "What do you mean, 'don't close?'"

"Let's have a counter-protest!" he said excitedly. "People do it all the time when the neo-nazis come out. We'll have a coexistence party here in the store until the protesters leave! We'll make flyers in Jamal's office, and we can use the news crews to advertise!"

"You're insane," Ashley told him outright. "And I always liked that about you. Call Jamal, and check with him. You," she pointed to Warren, "go and make up some flyers on the office computer. Make copies on the hideous fluorescent paper. Rogue, once we get the go ahead, you are going to make the announcement to the news crews."

"Meh?" She grew nervous, remembering how fat she looked last time she was on TV.

"It would have the most impact if the resident mutant employee made the announcement," she reasoned. "Don't wet yourself," Ashley added when she noticed how nervous the girl was.

"Ah don' like cameras," she confessed the obvious.

"Suck it up," Ashley ordered. "You are not going to go floating through life. Now go brush your hair and look presentable while I stall the reporters."

Rogue's stubbornness resurfaced after Ashley's comment about her hair. She crossed her arms and didn't head to the bathroom. She did inconspicuously look at her reflection in the glass of the counter to make sure she didn't look like a hobo.

Sly clipped his cordless phone back to his belt. He smiled and gave Ashley and Rogue the thumbs up sign. Rogue froze to her spot. She was excited about the idea of the counter-protest, but scared shitless about coherently speaking on television. Ashley parted politely with the reporters as they finished setting up their shot.

"You're on," she told the girl and shoved her over to the spotlight.

* * *

"I'm, like, totally exhausted." Kitty closed the cover on the oversized art book she was looking at and let her head fall limp over the back of the chair.

"It was a very hard afternoon," Piotr agreed. "But the time passed quickly. It is nearly six o'clock."

"Six o'clock!" Kitty exclaimed, then was hushed by the librarian walking by. "Wow, you're right." Kitty looked around at the piles of books and notes she had taken. "I guess we should call it a day," she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Is your project finished?" Piotr asked.

"No," Kitty reported. "I still have to do a visual, and type up all of this information for display."

"What are you planning for your visual?" he asked curiously.

The Chicagoan shrugged. "I don't know yet. I guess I'll figure that out when I get home." She started to pack up her things. Piotr also stood up and started to neatly pile the books. "Hey," Kitty said just thinking of something to extend their time together. "You don't think you could give me a ride back to the Institute, do you?"

Piotr's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he would have to refuse the smiling sprite. "I am sorry. Remy and John have the automobile today. They dropped me off."

Kitty's smile faded. "Yeah, Rogue dropped me off too. Where are you meeting them?"

"I am to go to Vinyl Vintage before seven p.m. Remy will be there."

A broad grin emerged on the valley girl's face as she flung her book bag over her shoulder. "Looks like we're heading in the same direction. Care to join me?"

Piotr smiled. "Of course."

When Kitty and Piotr walked up the block, they were as surprised by the protest as everyone else. The police were able to keep the crowd back as they made their way to the front doors. Some of the people threw styrofoam cups and stale donuts at them. Kitty grew nervous and sought protection in Piotr's giant form.

Inside Vinyl Vintage, the atmosphere was just as energized and chaotic. Rogue was on the telephone, Sly, Ania, Warren, and Remy were moving shelves to the edges of the room. Ashley ran in from the back room with a fold out table and a button maker.

"Are you here to work, play, or shop?" the blonde assistant manager asked the steel giant and the petite girl.

"Uh, we're here for Rogue?" Kitty replied to the demanding girl. Rogue looked up from the phone and motioned for the two to come toward her.

Halfway there, a sweaty Remy jumped behind Piotr and put his arm around him. "Great to see you, Petey! You're just in time, mon ami!"

Piotr groaned inwardly, "'Just in time' for what?"

Remy turned his teammate toward the large piece of furniture he and Sly were attempting to move. It had slid a single inch from its original position. "We need to get d'at out of de way."

"Okay," he agreed. Piotr hoped he wasn't getting a reputation for being a professional mover. That seemed to be all he did lately. Move the crates, there. The couch, there. Move the crates back over there. At least he would have some work experience if he ever needed to find another job.

"What is going on?" He asked as he lifted the furniture effortlessly. Sly directed him to the side of the room where he wanted the piece to go.

"We're throwing a shindig!" Ania announced excitedly and threw her arms in the air for dramatic effect. She looked around, "But we need streamers, eh? And we need to paint stuff on the windows. . . " Ania trailed off as she began brainstorming.

"Better hurry before de all get broken," Remy told her.

"Right, quick like a bunny on crack," she nodded and headed off to the back room to look for paints.

"What do you think you are doing?" Ashley asked as she watched Ania push open the door to the back room.

"Looking for window paints." Ania smiled at her brilliant idea.

"No, you aren't." She shoved the girl out of the way. "I don't know what Sly told you, but only employees are allowed back there. You tell me what you need, and I might go get it."

"Lighten up, Ashley!" Sly shouted from across the room. "She's not going to steal anything."

"You don't know that," Ashley replied. "We need to have at least some rules and order around here! If I weren't here, you'd have everyone running around naked with body paint, wearing records as hats, boxes on their feet, and singing kumbaya!"

It took a few seconds for Sly to push that delectable imagery out of his head. "Just get her the paints, Ashley," Sly requested. "And it would be Simon and Garfunkel not kumbaya!" The girl ignored him and disappeared into the back room. She couldn't think of a good reason not to. Painting the windows was a good idea, although she would never say that out loud.

"Remy," Piotr addressed after he moved the furniture out of the way, "Do you have the keys to the automobile? Kitty would like a ride home."

At the mention of the X-girl of Piotr's affection, the Cajun winked at him. "A _ride_ home?" he chuckled before answering the question. "Sorry, mon ami. John still has de keys. You just missed 'em too. He and Wanda went to get pizza and rent some movies."

"Do you know where they are located?"

"Non," he replied. "I know d'ey parked 'bout six blocks d'at way." He pointed in one direction. "In front o' de dollar store, but I don' know where d'ey are now. If d'ey are still parked d'ere you could probably wait fo' 'em d'ere."

"Thank you, Remy," he replied and left to report his findings to Kitty.

* * *

"So let me get this straight." John paused to collect his thoughts. "Getting coffee at someplace like Starmucks is bad and evil, but getting a slurpee from 7-11 is okay?" He looked up from the booth to the gothic girl sitting across from him, sipping her Coke/Dr. Pepper/Cherry-lime slurpee creation.

She swallowed the icey-goodness and set her cup down next to the remaining two pieces of pizza. "Yes, that is exactly right," she said without any further explanation.

"But 7-11 is just as widespread as Starmucks!" he exclaimed in aggravation.

Wanda remained as cool as ever. "Starmucks doesn't have slurpees."

"But they have vente mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino with extra whipped cream!"

The Scarlet Witch glanced around at the pizza parlor for a moment. The place was getting crowded. Some of the families would look at their table and turn their eyes away quickly as if they were afraid of their soul being sucked from their bodies. When the kids would look over, the parents would rush to put their hands in front of the innocent eyes and turn their heads back to their food. This amused her, but she sincerely didn't understand what about them caused so much attention. _Sure, earlier John was making crowns for the condiments out of disposable napkin rings, then playing with rather loudly, but was that such a head turner? Then there was the leaning tower of everything on the table. Maybe that's it. Maybe it made normal people nervous to build a four foot tower of condiments, silverware, plates, and a single full glass of water at the top held together only by probability hexing powers. _She took a good look at hers and John's creation. _The knifes pointing outward from the glass of water do look a little menacing. That was my personal touch_. She grinned, and a baby in a high chair two booths away started crying fiercely. _That's annoying. You better shove some more food in that kid's mouth pretty soon lady_, she frowned and her eyes spoke to the woman nearest to the baby.

Her glaze went back to her companion, who was still ranting about 7-11 or something. She took a napkin wrote on it with the children's crayons left on the table: "Let's give them a real show." She slid the napkin over to John. He was too involved in his rant to notice the note. Wanda waited a few seconds, but grew impatient and decided to start things off anyway.

"- and a place that serves something like mocha chocolate caramel swirl-a-chino, can't be all bad!"

Wanda's face became artificially irate. She slammed her fist on the table, but, surprising to everyone in the joint, the tower remained standing. "I can't believe you would bring her up again!"

John was completely confused and out of the loop. "Huh, what?"

"That little trollop!" Wanda again slammed her fist on the table, this time over the napkin note, hoping he would notice. "You've been seeing her again, haven't you!"

"Uh . . . no?" John said with a question on his voice as he had not yet understood what was going on in Wanda's head. He wondered for a second whether, perhaps, Wanda was genuinely insane.

"Don't lie to me. you little pinprick!" Wanda grabbed a spoon out of a customer's hand and flung it at the napkin. The spoon bounced up, hitting John in the cheek and smearing spaghetti sauce on his face.

"Wha?" He was still bewildered. He picked up the napkin with the message to clean off his face. Then he noticed the words written in green crayon and put in a brief wicked smile before getting into character. "Oh. OOOHH, and you're the victim here, I bet!" He used the napkin to get the sauce of his face and destroying the evidence at the same time.

"Well, it surely isn't you!"

"Then why am I the only one who wears the fuzzy handcuffs!!"

Wanda made her face pale and her voice quiet and deepen. "I don't own any fuzzy handcuffs."

John "realized" his mistake quite nonchalantly as he looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his chin. "Oh, yeah. I guess you don't. You have the nipple clamps, right?" He looked back at her questionably.

The "victim" stood up. It took her a second to subdue her inner laughter before she could speak again. _The crowd is eating this up. Well, I might as well give some justification to those kinky rumors._ "NO! I can't believe you! I have the naughty nurse kit and the whip!" Wanda noticed that John was not being as successful as she was at restraining his laughter. So she picked up John's cup of water that had avoided the tower and threw it in his face, giving him a cold shower of sorts.

John's mouth gapped open in surprise. Water dripped steadily from his face as she picked up her slurpee and stomped angrily from the booth.

Halfway to the doors she stopped and turned back. "You sick bastard! She's my mother!!!" John stared at her blankly as she left. He couldn't really top that one.

Without the presence of the Witch, the tower came tumbling down. St. John was no fool and seized the opportunity to escape. "AHHH!!!!" he screamed and grabbed his eye. "My eye, my beautiful eye!" He stood up and stumbled back and forth from table to table screaming and swearing until he fell out the doors.

Once outside he ran around the block to the alley behind the building. Wanda was there waiting for him. He barely made it around the corner before bursting out into laughter. Wanda leaned up against the brick wall and chuckled as John rolled around on the ground. Eventually John calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes. Then he chuckled for another minute before he could manage to get up off the ground.

"You done?" Wanda asked.

"Yes," he got out before one more chuckle. Then John coughed and cleared his throat. "Yes, yes, I think I am." Then he laughed again. Just for ten seconds this time. "Now I'm -"

The Witch put her hand on his mouth. "Don't jinx it. We have more work to do."

He smiled and put his arms around the girl. "You left before dessert." John pulled a chocolate chip cookie out of his jacket pocket.

"Where did you get this?" Wanda asked him.

"I snatched it from some kid on the way out."

She looked at him with concern. "You are spending too much time with Remy."

John dispelled her nonexistent concerns. "Don't worry, luv, Remy isn't my type."

"That's not what it looked like earlier," Wanda referred to the tussle at Vinyl Vintage earlier. John laughed.

He then replayed the scene from the pizza parlor in his head. "You really are good. There was no chance that I could beat that mother line." He kissed her, then they exited out of the alley with their arms around each other's waist.

Wanda shrugged. "Dysfunction runs in my family." When he didn't comment right away, she looked at his face and found it scrunched up in deep thought, which was a rarity. "What are you thinking?"

"Do you think your mom would let us snag the nipple clamps and the fuzzy handcuffs sometime?"

Wanda chuckled, but shoved him into a parked car to let him know that she was mildly insulted. "No." She thought for a second as John pushed himself off the car, then added, "Besides, the fuzzy handcuffs clash with my nurse's uniform."

The Aussie wondered if she was serious about the nurse's uniform and asked her. She just laughed without giving him an answer. The stopped walking when they were across the street from their destination: Blockmuster Video.

"Are we ready to go in this time?" she asked her consort.

John thought for a second. "You had better set it off once more." So the Scarlet Witch waved her hand and they watched as the antitheft devices blinked in an irregular manner. Personally, Wanda thought setting them off four times was enough, but didn't see the harm in doing it once more. They linked arms and crossed the street into the store.

The devices hadn't stopped blinking and making noise by the time the couple walked in. The clerks were just sighing and trying to get on with their work. Some of the customers covered their ears. One of the associates sized up the machine gave it one swift kick to no avail.

After a few seconds John stopped in its tracks. "Is it playing a song?" he asked no one in particular.

"Yes," an aggravated associate answered him. "It's been sporadically playing the 'Teddy Bear Picnic' song all night long. I'd unplug it if I knew how."

John turned to look Wanda in the face as she had her head bent down into her drink. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"What?" she asked after she got the last ice crystals that were evading her.

He ushered her over to a corner and whispered, "The 'Teddy Bear Picnic' song?"

She shrugged. "You said to make it creepy. What is more creepy than a song about cuddly, stuffed animals kidnapping and eating little children? I know it gave me nightmares."

St. John shook his head. "You Americans. You don't have real dangers in the forest like stinging trees, terrestrial leeches, and poisonous snakes, so you make up bad songs about man-eating stuffed bears."

"We're here to get a movie marathon, aren't we?" Wanda changed the subject.

The man from Oz saluted the Goth. "Right, let's get to work." He grabbed her hand and rushed to the horror section.

He pulled three movies off the shelf before Wanda objected. "No, I am not watching those."

John looked hurt. "But why? What could you have against _Evil Dead_?"

"Besides the fact that it is Todd's favorite movie, and he tried to make me watch it once?" the girl told him.

"But it's funny!"

"I don't really find a girl being assaulted by a tree all that funny," she mentioned a scene in the movie.

"It was shrubbery, not a tree," John defended. Then he realized the problem. "Which movie did you start with?"

"The first one," she told him like it was the stupidest question in the world.

John didn't think so and threw his arms up into the air. "There's your problem! Unless you are predisposed to this type of movie, you should watch the third one first, then either _Evil Dead I_ or _II_. Doesn't matter which, since they are pretty much the same thing." He showed her the cover box of the third movie _Bruce Campbell vs. Army of Darkness_.

Wanda was less than certain. "I thought the actor's name was Bruce Campbell. The character has some girly name."

"Oh, you're right." John kept a hold on the movies and started to walk away to another section. "Isn't it brilliant?"

The Scarlet Witch didn't feel like arguing with him over it so she broke off and started to browse on her own. A half hour later John came back up to her with a single movie in his hands.

"Ready?" he asked.

She looked at the single DVD he held. "When you said 'movie marathon' I thought you meant several movies back to back. Not one movie over and over again. If I wanted to watch the same movie I'd turn on TNT."

"Trust me." The pyromaniac smiled.

She rolled her eyes, but let him play his game. She took a closer look at the video he grabbed. "I was locked away for the last six and a half years, not sixty."

He looked down at his selection. "What do you have against _The Goonies_?"

"Pietro and I watched it only a million times growing up," Wanda told him. "Find something else."

John shrugged and went to the nearest shelf. He came back with another movie he showed Wanda.

"Again, I wasn't that sheltered," she told him of his selection of _Ghostbusters_.

"But it is hilarious!" John argued. "And now you are old enough to understand all the dirty jokes!"

"Third time's a charm, John-boy." This time he came back with two options: _Killer Klowns from Outer Space_ or _Psycho Beach Party_. The Witch , not being familiar with either, randomly picked one and they went up to check out.

Being videoless Wanda walked through the anti-theft devices, no problem. She grabbed the DVD they rented and John passed through the mighty columns. She was surprised when the alarms went off without being prompted to do so by her hexing powers. John nodded to her and she quickly changed the regularly beating alarm to the "Teddy Bear Picnic" song.

"Not again," the store attendants groaned. The one nearest to the couple turned toward them. "Don't worry about." He waved them off. "It's been happening all night." The pair looked at each other and left without any trouble.

"Why didn't you tell me you had movies shoved down your pants?" she asked the Aussie as they headed to the car.

"That's not the only place I shoved them," John responded.

"Not what I asked," she told him. "_Really_ not what I asked," she repeated as bad images formed in her mind.

John just shrugged and smiled. "Wasn't it fun?"

"Sure." Wanda linked her arm in his. "Promise me one thing though," she requested at the drop of the subject.

"What?"

"You will never tell me where you shoved the videos."

"No problem."

As they approached the vehicle they noticed two people milling around it. John and Wanda became cautious as they neared it.

"Petey!" John yelled and hugged the big man when he recognized him. A few DVD's fell to the ground. John bent down to scoop them up. "What are you doin' 'ere, mate? I'd figure you want to stay with Remy at the shindig in the music store."

"You remember I do not like crowds very much," Piotr reminded his comrade. "I wish to take the automobile after dropping you to off at the base. Kitty would like a ride to the Institute and Rogue is staying at work."

"Why are you asking me? I'm not the boss man. Give the Sheila a ride _wherever _she wants." John winked. Out of the corner of his eye she saw Kitty blush. John reached into his pants pocket and pulled out _Pulp Fiction_, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_, and the keys. After handing the keys to Piotr, John opened the back door and started unloading the DVDs from his body onto the seat. Wanda got into the back seat on the other side.

Kitty, who had taken shotgun, turned around in her seat to look at the pile of movies John had taken from Blockmuster. "Those still have the security strip in them."

"Yes, thanks!" John reached forward and pulled a tool from the pocket on the back of the driver's seat. "I almost forgot." He used the tool to pull out the yellow strips.

Kitty asked, "Where did you get that?"

"Remy snatched it from the Sixth Street store."

"Don't you feel bad about stealing all those movies?" the girl with the moral compass asked.

John blinked. "Not one bit, have you seen what they charge? I don't have zaks spilling out of my pockets. Besides I'm not stealing them, per say. I have every intention of returning them." Then he added, "Most of 'em."

Kitty turned back in her seat and sighed. When she looked up she noticed a gapping hole in the roof with streamers and Mardi Gras beads hanging from it. _Well, if I had any doubt that Peter was exaggerating his stories about his roommates, it's gone now_.

* * *

Piotr pulled the automobile up to the front doors of the Institute and turned off the engine.

"Thanks so much for the ride, Piotr!" Kitty bubbled and grabbed her bag. "I'll call you later this week and let you know how the project went over." She jumped out of the door without opening it.

Behind her Piotr restarted the vehicle but decided to wait until she was safely inside before leaving. _How sweet_, she thought as she walked up the steps. She never made it to the front doors. At that second there was a major exodus of New Mutants. Kitty froze and phased in fear as Bobby, Sam, Ray, and Roberto came rushing out the doors at full speed.

"You aren't going anywhere!" Bobby shouted as he froze the tires of the Acolyte vehicle to the ground. The four boys cheered triumphantly and headed to the driver's side of the vehicle. They were surprised to see Piotr sitting in the driver's seat.

"Uh, ya ain't Kurt and Evan," Sam stated the obvious. At that moment everyone heard Scott's convertible start up and peal out of the garage. The boys mumbled a rushed apology to the Acolyte as they sped to head off the sport's car Kurt and Evan were hijacking.

Kitty was still trying to figure out what was going on when Amara came out of the mansion, hurriedly but not rushed. "Like, what got into them?" she asked the other girl.

"Kurt and Evan are going to Rogue's party at work, and they are trying to leave without us, even though the Professor said we could go," Amara reported the atrocity to the valley girl. "Just a minute," she excused herself before going on. The New Mutant concentrated on the ground and in front of the convertible she was able to make a gentle makeshift curve to direct the boys back to the mansion. Kurt and Evan yelled out in fright as the convertible made the turn like it was a race car. Magma was able to direct the car all of the way back to the mansion by turning the driveway into a large luge of sorts. Once the older mutants had given up, Amara turned to Kitty once again. "Are you going to the party?"

"No, I'm pooped," Kitty gave her lame excuse.

Amara looked to the handsome mutant who had gotten out of his vehicle to study his frozen tires, "Pooped, huh? I can't imagine what you were doing all day with a sweet handsome Russian."

Kitty hit her in the arm. "Amara! We were working on my art project."

The princess shrugged. "Sure." She gave Kitty the 411 on the mansion. "Jamie's still here, Logan's disappeared for the night, Storm is up in the attic communing with her plants, Hank's down in the lab, and the Professor locked himself in his study a half hour ago and has been on the phone ever since. Catch you later, Kitty." The girl bounded down the steps to the convertible where Sam, Roberto, Ray, and Bobby were arguing over the seating arrangements and who had to sit on who's lap. Kurt wished Evan had actually passed his driver's test so that he wasn't the only licensed driver there. Now he would have to drop everyone off before going to pick up Amanda. But at least he got to drive the shiny convertible again.

"Amara?" Piotr stopped the girl before she got into the car. "I remember that you can make heat. Would you melt the ice from my tires so I may leave please?"

The meddling princess looked from Piotr to the car to Kitty on the front porch, she grinned devilishly. "No, I have to go. Have fun with Kitty. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She hopped into the crammed car, removed her obstacles, and the crew took off.

Piotr sighed. Kitty blushed and shook her head. "You hungry?" she called. The Russian nodded. "Come on in."

* * *

A well established coupled looked out from around an alley corner at Vinyl Vintage. The crowd was just as rambunctious as earlier, but the police maintained a clear path from the street to the front doors of the store. They could tell the party had already started: most of the lights were off and a strong baseline could be heard across the street.

"I think you should go in all blue." Amanda pressed the button on his image inducer. Now instead of a skinny, pale German exchange student, Kurt Wagner was a fuzzy blue German elf.

"Vhat do you think you're doing?" Kurt panicked and turned the inducer back on. "Those people beat Rogue up for being a normal looking mutant. Do you know vhat they are going to do if they see me?"

"But the whole point of tonight is to protest their protest," Amanda argued. "This is the perfect time to go as your true blue self." She reached over to his wrist and turned off his inducer again.

Yet again Kurt hurried to turn it back on. "No, I'm not going to. You don't know vhat it's like."

"Tell me then," she encouraged as she slyly brushed his fuzzy arm and turned off his inducer again.

"Vhy did I ever show you how to work this thing?" Kurt asked himself as he turned it back on. "I'm just not ready for the mobs again. Not here. Back in Germany, I couldn't go out in the daytime vithout people chasing after me vith pitch forks and torches. Here I don't have to be afraid. I don't vant to go through that all over again."

"I'm sorry, Kurt," she reached up and touched his face. "But someday you will have to come out from behind that thing," she pointed to his inducer, "And when you do, always remember that you are the cutest, most lovable, little elf in the world and don't let them change that." She sighed and looked to she side. "But today doesn't have to be that day." She linked arms with Kurt in his human looking guise and they walked across the street.

* * *

After watching _Young Frankenstein_ followed by_ Death to Smoochy_, John put in another selection. About five minutes into _The Princess Bride_, the two lovebirds on the couch in the common room were shaken by the front door slamming. There were uneven footsteps, a bang, drunken laughter, then growling.

"Toothy and Monkey-man are home," John announced.

The two stumbled past the common room. Sabertooth paused and did a double take. For the first time in a week, he was able to see John. He dropped his inebriated friend onto the floor and burst into the room.

He roared and grabbed John by the scruff of the neck, pulling him out from under Wanda.

"Hey, what's the deal?!" John was surprised that Sabertooth was able to attack him. The large cat turned the boy around to face him. St. John caught a glimpse of Jason passed out on the floor in the hallway. _Oh great._ John decided that he had to take action, and he kicked the beast as hard as he could in the stomach. Sabertooth belched and the firebug got a good whiff of cheep beer.

"Toothy!" John made an awful face as he chided, "What have I told you about American beer?"

Wanda realized that her boyfriend was no match for the older savage mutant. "Hey, ugly!" She stood up on the sofa and shouted, "Get your own pyromaniac!" She used her power to fling the coffee table at him. The table just broke into two pieces along his back, one half flying out into the hallway, narrowly missing Jason. Sabertooth did drop John, who from his new position on the floor, was able to kick the hairy man in the shins. As Sabertooth grabbed his legs in pain, John scrambled over to Wanda on the couch. "So you got a plan?"

Sabertooth recovered and picked up the other half of the coffee table and tossed it at the two. They both ducked and the coffee table hit the entertainment center, knocking the DVD player to the floor where the insides became the outsides.

"HEY! We were watching a movie!" John exclaimed and used the flames from some candles he had lit to chase Sabertooth from the room. The cat took two steps toward the door then rooted himself. The pyromaniac made his fire encircle Sabertooth.

Sabertooth crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "You don't have the guts."

Pyro started laughing maniacally. Sabertooth felt a breeze and looked behind him. Pyro had made him a pair of chaps and removed all the hair from his buttocks as well. Sabertooth ran through the fire rope and charged the sofa. They both dove to opposite sides of the room. The Scarlet Witch grabbed a brass bust that was sitting on an end table and smashed it over Sabertooth's head, successfully knocking him out.

The Witch looked down at the statue in her hand and read the name plate. "A brass bust of Hans Christian Oersted? Didn't he write _The Little Mermaid_?" (9)

"Maggie's taste, not mine." John summoned all his strength to pull Sabertooth off the couch. "I'm gonna need your help to get this guy back to his room." Wanda walked over and grabbed his other arm. When they got the body to hallway, they set him down to rest.

"Isn't there any place closer we can dump him?" the girl asked as she kicked Jason, who was trying to snuggle up to her leg. The telepath made some funny noises and turned toward the cold, lonely wall.

John smiled. "Now that I think about it..." Five minutes later they were back outside the common room with Sabertooth's body safely stored in the Lucky Charms stocked pantry. (10)

"Go to your room, Jason," John told the wasted man on the floor. Surprisingly, he heard John and managed to stumble to his hands and knees and crawl toward the sleeping quarters. "Wow, it worked." He laughed. His smile faded as Jason vomited just past the door to his own room. "Ewww.....no, Jason. _Your_ room!" The fire boy panicked when he saw the man turn around and try to open the door to the pyromaniac's room. John decided to take decisive action and made a fire sheepdog to herd the man into the correct room.

"So where were we?" John asked Wanda as he settled himself down next to her on the couch in the common room.

"We were watching the movie, but that overgrown hair ball wrecked the DVD player," Wanda complained.

"No worries, luv." John stood up and relit the candles and made a little fire ball of his own. He split the ball into three smaller ones and then formed three men: a giant, a swordsman, and a conniving little man. "I know the movie by heart." He sat back down on the couch and continued to act out the movie with his fire people and funny voices. Wanda stared at her companion. Then she smiled and laid down, putting her head on his chest.

She watched John's play for several minutes before she noticed he was getting a little hoarse. He had just gotten to the battle of wits.

"'It has worked! You've given everything away! I know where the poison is!'" John said in his best Wallace Shawn voice. He dropped his voice and said very urgently, "'Then make your choice.'" Back to Wallace Shawn: "'I will! And I choose... What in the world can that be?!'" John pointed off to the side as well as his fire Vizzini.

Wanda took that moment and turned around. She put her head between John's and his creatures. "Me," she stated and smiled seductively.

John looked confused. "No, you aren't in this movie. You're confusing this with "The Peek-a-boo Babes.""

Her eyes narrowed. "I hate you, you pervert."

"I know you do." He smiled. "I know you are just playing with my emotions until Remy gives up on Rogue."

"Remy? You've got to be kidding." Wanda was disgusted at the pairing. "He probably has more STD's than that Playboy mansion guy."

"Petey?"

"A bit slow on the uptake."

"It looks like you're stuck with me then," John told her.

"Or that Jason guy," Wanda teased. (11)

"The creepy monkey-man?!" the firebug exclaimed. "But he's a pansy, not to mention old!"

"Are you saying you have more to offer me?" She played with the collar of his shirt then looked up into his eyes and smirked.

He returned her glaze, extinguished his _Princess Bride _fire creatures and kissed her.

* * *

"Just a little lower." Rogue directed as Remy massaged her back. She was lying on her stomach on the register counter as Remy sat on the stool trying to work out her knots.

"Don' tempt me." Remy smirked at his innuendo.

"Does your mind ever come outta the gutter?" she asked.

"Non," he reflected, "I d'ink it has set up permanent residence d'ere. Low property taxes, you know."

"They'd have ta be low since the people who live there spend all their money on booze an' pornography," she commented.

"Sounds like you have some personal experience o' livin' in de gutter," he teased.

"No, but ah have lived in the Brotherhood house an' that is pretty close." She lifted her head off her folded arms and turned it so she was looking out at the store instead of behind the counter at Remy. Not many people had made it all the way into the store for the counter-protest. The New Mutants, Kurt, Amanda, Evan, Tabby and a couple of random mutants she dragged along with her were the only ones. They had seen several others try and make it, but their devotion to the cause wasn't great enough to make it by the mob and their rotten vegetables and stale coffee. Rogue thought she had seen the girl Suzy and a boy with multicolored hair try and come in, but turn around when they faced the resistance. On the bright side, they got press, and the ones that had made it inside weren't about to let the mob have their way with Vinyl Vintage. They were having a good time grooving to Sly's musical selections. "What do ya think o' all o' this?" Rogue finally asked Remy.

"All of what, chere?" Remy asked.

"The protest, humans vs. mutants, the 'inevitable war' as your boss puts it," Rogue clarified. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and turned back to Remy.

The boy shrugged. "I've seen a lot o' horrors in my life, done by both mutants an' humans. As much as I hope dat it doesn' end it war, I can' imagine any other way it could end. An' I'm not one ta be compliant. I don' plan to sit by."

The goth had been listening intently before she turned away and looked outside again. "Ah know whatcha mean. It's hard ta imagine that those people outside could be your happy neighbors who let ya borrow their lawn mower. But, Ah think, that Ah'll always have that hope inside meh. Some days it shines brighter than others. Ah think that is why Ah've stayed at the Institute so long. Ah coulda gone back ta the Brotherhood after Mystique left, but Ah didn't. Ah coulda gone back ta Irene, or runaway an' tried ta make it on mah own, but Ah stayed. As annoying an' frustrating as it can be ta live there, it makes meh stronger. All those people there with hope. Makes meh believe that the world won' end up one big dead crater. Not with people like that." She ended her speech and pulled her knees into her chest. Rogue rested her head on her knees and tried to read the Cajun's expression.

"Idealism is a catchy d'ing," he said finally. "Somethin' worth fightin' for."

"But not fo' you," she pried.

Remy sighed again. He couldn't say that he hated the serious talks they had. On the contrary, that is one of the reasons he liked talking with Rogue so much. She didn't let him sidestep anything. Not if it was truly important. It made him think about his life and the choices he had made, which hurt because of all the mistakes he had made. He had never really made himself face any of it. He just closed the door and wished that he never had to look back. She was the first person he had told about the almost-wedding since it happened. But there were some things about his past that he couldn't face just yet. He couldn't say them out loud because as long as they remained only in his memory, he could deny their reality. He could look the other way. Telling someone made them real. He wasn't ready for that. "I'm not much o' an idealist anymore," he said finally.

"Ya said ya had hope," she threw back at him. Not in a condensing or angry manner, but in a yearning one. One that seeks the truth.

"My hope is a bit overshadowed by my reality," he told her, hoping that she would leave it at that.

"But it is still there," she declared.

_Was it_? he asked himself. He was there, wasn't he? That counted for something. He wasn't off playing war games or moving Risk pieces around the globe. When the crowd surrounded him, picked him up, and tossed him through the window, why didn't he fight back? Why didn't he use his powers? _Because I knew I could really hurt someone an' I have more respect fo' human life d'an d'at._ "Oui, deep down. Hiding under a huge rock."

"Remy?" He could tell Rogue was preparing to ask a big question. "If ya have this hope, then why are ya workin' fo' Magneto?"

There it was. The question that would open up a big can of worms. How could he answer it? He didn't want to lie, but he wasn't ready to make those things real yet. He looked around skittishly for the answer. "It's complicated," was the angle he chose.

"Ya can tell meh, Remy." She looked him straight in the eye. "Looks like ah got all night," she gestured to the protesters making camp outside.

Again, Remy avoided her glaze and shifted his weight. _How can one fille make me d'is nervous?_

"Is he blackmailin' ya or somethin'?" Rogue asked, remembering what Logan had heard about Piotr.

"No, no," he answered. "It's not dat. It's. . . he got me outta a bad fix, dat's all. I feel I owe 'em," he partially lied. He just couldn't face reality, not this night.

"When will ya stop 'owin' 'em?'" she asked with a rebellious tinge to her voice.

It sparked a little stubbornness in his own manner,."When I'm good an' ready."

"Ya're already good, Remy," Rogue told him sincerely.

"Oh, look, Ashley an' Ania are at each other's throats again." Remy pointed to the pair across the room.

"They've been fightin' all day," Rogue didn't want to let the subject drop, but the argument reaching her ears felt like it had reached a breaking point. "Don' think you're gettin' off easy, swamp rat," she shook her finger at him before turning her attention to the girls. "This isn' the last ya heard 'bout this from meh."

"Why don't you just go back to Canada?" Ashley yelled at Ania.

"Why should I, you slut monkey!" Ania shouted.

"Because you belong there!" Ashley feigned sympathy. "Or did they not want you either?"

Sly tried to intervene, although he was a little turned on by having two hot chicks kind of fight over him. "Girls, knock it off. This is stupid."

"No, you have me and Canada confused with you and Sly." Ania ignored her boyfriend's attempts at peace. _This is ending tonight_. She set her jaw determinedly.

"Oh, please." Ashley discarded the insult with her hand. "You can't fill my shoes. In a couple weeks, he'll be crawling back to me."

A disgusted Sly tried to interject, but he was cut off by his girlfriend. "How delusional are you, eh? He _dumped_ you and insults you every chance he gets. You really are the dullest dolphin in the socket!"

"What does that even mean, you babbling bimbo?"

"I'm not the one who dyes her hair blonde to match her intelligence!" (12)

"At least I didn't have a hundred holes punched in my head to draw attention away from extra ones that formed there naturally!" Ashley alluded to the many piercings of the other girl.

"That's it!" Ania whipped off her slave bracelets and other chains attached to her body. "I'm sick of this alpha female snippy shit! Men don't have this problem, they just kick the crap out of each other and whoever wins, wins."

"What are you ranting about _now_?" the girl asked.

Ania didn't answer; she pounced on the non-blonde. Ashley yelped in surprise and the New Mutants gathered around and oohhed, and awwed as shoes and hair went flying.

* * *

The door to Magneto's "Top Secret Headquarters" slammed. Sounds of heavy luggage being dragged along a steel floor could be heard if anyone was paying attention, but they weren't. Magneto was beyond angry. He had waited two entire hours for one of his henchmen to pick him up at the airport. He couldn't just fly himself and his luggage back to the base for fear of magnetizing and ruining his new Etch-a-Sketches and equipment he had purchased at the conference. He had demagnetized his hotel room card four times before he realized how careful he had to be using his powers with his key card in his pocket. On the plus side, he got to see a lot of the cute desk clerk. Unbeknownst to him, she thought he was and creepy old imbecile who kept magnets in his pockets.

_Didn't any of my servants get the message I left on the answering machine?!_

------Earlier that day------

"REMY!" John yelled from Sabertooth's room where he was constructing a web of yarn throughout the room. "The phone is ringing!" Although Jason's room was closer, he chose not to disturb the hungover telepath. No hungover person was chipper when they were awoken prematurely, but telepaths seemed to be especially vengeful. He might end up on the roof declaring he was a golden god before jumping into a nonexistent swimming pool (13). The telephone continued to ring. "REMY!!" The phone rang again. John sighed and headed out of the big cat's room dragging several trails of different yarn tails behind him. He passed two ringing phones to the Cajun's quarters. He opened the door, "Remy the phone is ringing!" A charged pop bottle came flying at John's head. Luckily he was able to close the door fast enough to prevent any permanent damage. To himself anyway. The door was another matter entirely. Remy groaned and rolled over in bed.

"Huh, PIOTR!" John shut the door to Remy's room and headed to the Russian's. "PETEY! Could you get the phone?! I'm a bit wrapped up at the moment!" Piotr's head popped out of his room, he took one look at the Aussie and sighed.

"The point of a practical joke is to inconvenience the other person, is it not?" Piotr, who knew of John's plans for the morning, asked the troublemaker.

"Do not criticize my art," he replied sternly.

Piotr shook his head. By then the phone had stopped ringing and the answering machine had picked up. Together they marched to the kitchen where the machine was. There was a red number three blinking at them.

Piotr leaned over the table and scrutinized the equipment. "Do you know how to get the machine to speak?" the Russian asked his comrade.

"Sure, you push the button on the thing." John waved his yarn covered arms around as far as he could.

"Which button?"

"The circle one," the Aussie answered.

"Are you positive?" Piotr's large finger loomed above the answering machine.

"Yes." John paused as Piotr pressed the button. "Then again, no, not really."

It was too late. "Record your new greeting after the tone," the machine said. "Beep!"

"New greeting? What does that mean?" Piotr curiously asked.

"We don't want a new greeting!!" John exclaimed and jumped up and down. "It took us years to get the first one right!

Make it stop! Make it stop!" The yarn person wobbled around.

"How?!" Piotr was not equally agitated. His fingers again hovered above the machine and its symbols and buttons and blinking lights.

"Press the button! Press the button!"

"Which button?!"

"That one!!" John flung a yarn end at the buttons.

Piotr closed his eyes and pressed one of the three buttons the yarn had passed over.

"NOT THAT ONE!" John yelled.

The machine spoke again. "Message one erased. To erase all messages press the delete button."

"What button!?" Piotr's hand moved over the machine faster and more nervously.

"No, no, no!" John desperately tried to move his hand out of his yarn web to reach the answering machine. "Press this button!" John made a grab at one of the buttons but hit the wrong one.

"The day is Monday." The calm voice of the machine paused. "Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday -"

"Why is it still speaking?!" the Russian exclaimed.

"The button is stuck! Unstick the button!" John suggested.

"WHICH BUTTON?!" Piotr grew frustrated. The machine repeated the days over and over again only irritated him further.

He then randomly pressed another button, "To customize your answering option -" He knew that wasn't the right one, so he pressed another one. "Record your new greeting after the tone." Then another: "To accept this greeting press -" Then another: "Wednesday, Thursday -" Then another: "Hello Mr. Magnus Caesar, you have been chosen -" and then a few more: "Message two erased... All messages have been erased."

Piotr looked to St. John. "I won't tell if you won't, mate."

The Russian looked down at the fragile piece of technology that had conquered him. SMASH, he brought his metal fist down hard on the answering machine. BEEP..EP...ep.

"Why'd you go and do that?" John asked him. "Now we have to tell."

Piotr turned and glared at him. "No, we do not."

"I get it," John smirked and nodded. "'We didn't see anything.' 'What answering machine?' 'We had an answering machine?'"

John was laughing when Remy groggily dragged himself into the kitchen. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What was all de yellin' 'bout?"

"What yelling? There was no yelling," St. John declared.

Remy blinked then waved his hand dismissing his argument. "Whatever you say. Who was on de phone, anyway?"

"What phone? We don't have any phone," John said quickly. "What's a phone?"

"You broke it, didn' you?" Remy looked at his teammates.

"No, the phone is not broken," Piotr honestly stated.

"D'en what's dat over d'ere?" Remy pointed to the pancake shaped electronics on the counter.

"What are you talking about, Remy?" John tried to play dumb some more. "There isn't anything over there."

Piotr rolled his eyes, he knew he had ben caught but didn't see a problem with Remy knowing what happened. "That was the answering machine."

"Rogue didn' call, did she?" The flirt asked as he contemplated a breakfast of coffee and toast or coffee and cereal.

The other two henchmen shared a nervous glance over Remy's head. Neither of them had any idea what the first and third messages were. "Uh, no. No, Rogue did not call," Piotr managed to lie.

"Good," the Cajun yawned. The other boys breathed a sigh of relief. John assumed his job was done and walked carefully back to Sabertooth's room, and Piotr unceremoniously dumped the trouble making machine in the trash and searched the cupboards for breakfast.

------------- End "Earlier that day" --------------

The lights in most of the base were out, only a few candles were lit. Almost to the common room, Magneto's shin struck an over-turned coffee table. Well half of a coffee table anyway. After a few curses, Magneto stumbled to the light switch in the common room. Artificial light flooded the room, but the couple making out on the couch barely noticed.

"Gambit, what did I tell you about -" the boss started his lecture. The girl on top sat up when she heard his voice. Her top was undone and a black lacy bra shown through. Then Magneto got a clear vision of who the disheveled girl was over the back of the sofa. "WANDA?!" he squinted just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. _Wanda and Gambit?!_ Magneto was very confused.

"Father." She froze the air with the word as she quickly planned her attack.

"Father?!" St. John with his hair more messy than usual and lipstick on his face neck and chest sat up sharply now in Magneto's eye line. For the first time, he realized that Wanda's father and Magneto, his boss, was the same man. "I'm dead," he gulped.

Magneto also had a disturbing revelation at that moment: _Wanda and PYRO!!!!_

* * *

(1) From the MTV cartoon _Daria_.  
(2) The only decent scene in the wretched movie_ Jeepers Creepers _was when they repeatedly ran over the monster thing. But, unfortunately for them, he had one heart more than they crushed. Don't watch this movie EVER, if you can help it. You have been forewarned.  
(3) This might be just me, the poli-sci minor, but I am greatly curious about what will happen to Cuba after Castro finally kicks the bucket. I'm hoping I'll be alive to see it. Not that I'm old or anything, less than a quarter of a century, but that guy has some long lease on life. It amazes me. Sometimes I wonder if Dr. Livingstin was wrong and the Fountain of Youth is in Cuba not Florida or Congo or wherever he got lost.  
(3.5) Reference to _Frank Millar's Sin City_ the movie. I have never seen so many castrations in a two hour period. Not a required viewing.  
(4) In reference to _The Godfather_. I watched the first and second ones. Never made it to the third. The second was too horrible. At least the first one had the cannoli joke ("Leave the gun, take the cannolis."). When going to the west side to take care of "a job" aka killing someone, Clemenza's wife ordered him to bring cannolis back for her.  
(5) _Funny Face:_ 1957 starring Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn. I usually like Audrey Hepburn movies, but this one....let's put it this way: I fell asleep for about twenty minutes in the middle, woke up and it was still as bad as it was when I lost consciousness. Plus Fred Astaire is WAY too old for Audrey Hepburn. He wasn't 102, only 58, but that is over twice her age. Now _Charade, _on the other hand, is the best Audrey Hepburn movie. Yes, Cary Grant is much older than her too, but only by like 25 years and he wears them much better. Plus they make fun of how much older he is in the movie.  
(6) Barbie=Barbeque

(6.5) The first window was broken Chapter 18 – I'm a dead cat too.  
(7) Michael Jackson's "Beat It," from the 1982 _Thriller_ Album.  
(8) This is John's butchering of Nena's "99 Luftballoons" or "99 Red Balloons" from the original German lyrics. AKA I listened to the German version and screwed it up real good.  
(9) Wanda is confusing Hans Christian Oersted with Hans Christian Anderson, the author/playwright. Hans Christian Oersted was a Danish scientist who studied magnetism and electric currents in the 1800's.  
(10) Does anyone else find it unbelievable in the movie _Signs_ when M. Night Shamalon locks the alien in the pantry and it actually contains him there for several hours?  
(11) Back in the comics when Scarlet Witch was in the Brotherhood, both Toad and Mastermind were obsessed with her.  
(12) For any of you blondes who might be insulted by this, I am a natural blonde. That is why I can say it. So suck it up and laugh.  
(13) Scene from _Almost Famous._

* * *

A/N: So there you go! Only one more chapter and an epilogue. Although the epilogue is three parts now. More the fun!

Does anyone know where I can get transcripts or download (preferably for free) episodes "Self-possessed" and "Under Lock and Key"?

For all those interested, I just started a forum in the XME area. Right now I have a thread where you can apply to have your Jonda put in my C2 collection. That's the important one. I also have one where you can talk about my soon-to-be-_Nine-to-Five_-series. I will comment minimally on that one. It's mostly for you. And a thread where you can discuss the good, the bad, and the ugly, of the Jonda couple.


	20. The feces hit the fan

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's. Except the humans Sly, Ania (inspired by ishandahalf), Ashley, Jamal, and Warren. They are MINE! (evil laughter ensues)

**A/N**: A special thanks to E.E. Skysong who is helping me edit and proof.

* * *

_thoughts_

**telepathy**

* * *

**NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Twenty: The Feces Hits the Fan **(And I'm not talking about baby mice, people (1))

-----Previously in "Nine to Five"------

The lights in most of the base were out, only a few candles were lit. Almost to the common room, Magneto's shin struck an over-turned coffee table. Well half of a coffee table anyway. After a few curses, Magneto stumbled to the light switch in the common room. Artificial light flooded the room, but the couple making out on the couch barely noticed.

"Gambit, what did I tell you about..." the boss started his lecture. The girl on top sat up when she heard his voice. Her top was undone and a black lacy bra shown through. Then Magneto got a clear vision of who the disheveled girl was over the back of the sofa. "WANDA?!" he squinted just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. _Wanda and Gambit?!_ Magneto was very confused.

"Father," she froze the air with the word as she quickly planned her attack.

"Father?!" St. John with his hair more messy than usual and lipstick on his face neck and chest sat up sharply now in Magneto's eye line. For the first time, he realized that Wanda's father and Magneto, his boss, was the same man. "I'm dead," he gulped.

Magneto also had a disturbing revelation at that moment: _Wanda and PYRO!!!!  
_

_-----End Recap-----  
_

Magneto stood frozen, mouth agape. This gave Wanda sufficient time to hex him to the floor and then button up her clothes. The master of magnetism barely noticed; his mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that his daughter was making out with his practically insane henchmen at his top secret base. _I think my heart has stopped beating. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Or maybe I'm having an aneurysm. Have I taken a breath in the last minute?_ Magento gasped. The added oxygen boasted his brain power and allowed him to focus on his current situation: Stuck to the floor, one of his henchmen covered in Wanda's lipstick peeking out from behind the couch, his homicidal daughter walking toward him with his brass bust of Hans Christian Oersted in her hands, and unable to use his powers against her without them backfiring. Wanda was only a few feet away from him now. She was walking slowly, either hoping to intimidate him with the wait or savoring the moment. He determined that, in order to get out of this mess, he would have to use his most dangerous weapons: his mind and his mouth. A brilliant idea popped in the man's head.

"Pyro!" Magneto exclaimed. "When I ordered you to keep track of Wanda, this wasn't what I had in mind!"

The Scarlet Witch was the first of the two to register the meaning of that statement. "WHAT?!!!!" Her eyes widened to the size of baseballs. _He . . .. what. . . .WHAT DID HE DO?! _Her hand with the bust dropped to her side, and she turned her head to glare expectantly at St. John.

John straightened his body from where it was crouched on the sofa. "Wha . . .I don't know what that dingbat is talking about!" The Aussie was truly lost in what was going on. _Surely she can't believe him after everything we've been through the past few weeks!_

"Please, Pyro." Magneto smiled a little at himself. "You can stop now. You never were a very good actor." His plan was working perfectly. Wanda's mind was confused and distracted. Her hold on him would be slacking soon.

Wanda looked several times between her father and her boyfriend before settling on John again. She couldn't speak. She couldn't believe; yet she could. _I've been betrayed by everyone in my life I have ever loved. Why should John be any different?_

"He's _lying_! He never ordered me to do anything!" John pleaded. _I can't believe she is eating this load of bullshit! _  
_  
_ The Scarlet Witch looked back to Magneto.

"Give it up, Pyro." Magneto turned to his lackey. "She can see through your charade now." He turned to his daughter. "I'm sorry for all of this, Wanda. I had specifically assigned Pyro to keep you from surprising me while I was at the conference, because I believed that, unlike Gambit, he could keep his hands to himself. I was wrong."

Wanda's world was caving in. _Everything was a lie? It was all just a sham_? The brass bust of the scientist clattered to the floor. She felt like a fool. But an angry, powerful, butt-kicking fool. John found himself flying across the room and slamming into the wall. There he hung, surprised, hurt and enflamed.

John finally voiced what he had been thinking: "YOU CAN'T SERIOUSLY BELIEVE HIM! I thought you hated the taste of bullshit!"

The Scarlet Witch was torn. Their voices continued to shout at her, but the words became a blur. Her hands gripped her head and covered her ears. "Shut-up, Shut-up, Shut-up! SHUT-UP!" A shock wave of hexing energy blew from her body and radiated through the base, opening and slamming every door and knocking every picture from the wall.

John could now only mumble as he seemed to have come down with lock-jaw as he wiggled on the wall.

But to Magneto's discomfort, he remained cemented to the floor. _She has certainly gotten stronger since last time I saw her. More focused. I can't help being proud despite the fact that it ruined part of my plan._

Then, behind the spot where Wanda was having an emotional breakdown, Magneto saw his salvation from the predicament. John also saw the incoming danger and tried to warn his beloved, but all he could do was kick the wall more violently. Wanda noticed that something had changed about his urgency and looked up from her hands. But unfortunately the warning came too late. For Wanda, the night became black and she fell to the floor.

John fell to the ground. He wiggled his jaw around to get the blood circulating again. He got up and started to run where Wanda had fallen. Magneto picked up a metal end table and used it to restrain John. "You are not to go anywhere NEAR my daughter."

Magneto, now able to move, strutted over to Sabertooth as he tossed the half of the coffee table to the ground. "Good work, Sabertooth," Magneto clasped the animal on the shoulder. Sabertooth shrugged. When the Scarlet Witch's hex wave slammed all of the doors in the base, he was able to escape from the pantry and seek his vengeance. "Now go get Mastermind and bring him here," Magneto ordered.

Sabertooth started to protest. "Uh, I don't think. . ."

Magneto was surprised and outraged at his most loyal minion's insubordinate words. "That's right! You don't think! I think! Now go get Mastermind." He pointed to the door and this time Sabertooth exited.

"You can't keep us from seeing each other!" John yelled at his boss and his girlfriend's father.

"Seeing each other?" Magneto laughed. "Dear boy, the only way Wanda will want to see you again now is if you were strung up and quartered." The manipulative bastard laughed again.

Jason Wyngard stumbled into the room followed by a twirling Sabertooth wearing a tiara and a tutu. Jason had a goofy smile on his face and swaggered up to his boss. He put his hand behind his back. A second later Jason was shoving a bouquet of lilies in Magneto's face.

"Mastermind! What is the meaning of this?" Magneto shoved the man's hand down and looked him in his bloodshot eyes. Mastermind replied with a belch. Magneto turned his head and took a step back. "Ugh. What have you been drinking?"

Mid-twirl, Sabertooth told Magneto of their earlier activities. "We went to the bar. Jason tried to match me." Magneto recognized the danger he was in before Mastermind did. He rushed to his luggage and pulled out his helmet. The lilies disappeared, and now Sabertooth was wearing a lamp shade on his head and had on his newly made chaps. The leader put his head in his hands at the sight of Sabertooth's bare buttocks. "Oh great," he sighed.

Mastermind tried to cheer him up with a box of chocolates, but Magneto just keep throwing Jason's empty hands out of his face. "Take him back to bed. When you're done, drop Wanda off at the Brotherhood house. And put some whole pants on!" Sabertooth escorted Mastermind out of the room.

Magneto took off his helmet and massaged his temples. Then he realized some people were missing. He turned to Pyro, who was still wrapped up in an end table. "Where's Colossus? And Gambit?"

St. John was furious and refused to cooperate. "Don't know. They didn't leave a note on the fridge."

Magneto did not take this well and roughed the boy up a bit. "Where are they!?"

John just shrugged and Magneto gave up early. John was dropped painfully to the ground, but still remained encased in end table.

"How could this night get any worse?" Magneto said as he switched on the television to a news channel. The news station ran footage from their interview with Rogue that afternoon:

"... and the protest is still going on strong. The employees of the music store organized their own small counter-protest this afternoon, hoping to discourage the pro-_homo sapian_ rally. The employees, one of which is a known mutant, announced their decision to host a coexistence party in Vinyl Vintage:"

"We here believe that the world is big enough fo' both humans an' mutants ta live, an' work, an' shop, an' play together. . . Remy stop makin' faces at meh! That's obscene!"

At the mention of his missing lackey's name, Magneto tuned out the rest of the audio. The television showed a few more questions, then went live to outside Vinyl Vintage. Although the reporter was hogging most of the shot, Magneto could make out a few of the people inside the store. One was tall, wearing a trench coat, and his eyes glowed red when he turned toward the camera.

"Pyro," Magneto said sternly, "Get your gear."

* * *

The telephone ringing jolted Ororo Monroe up from her sleep. She hurried out of bed, throwing a silk robe about her shoulders. She glanced at her clock on the way: 12:44. Worry filled her heart. _What could have happened to warrant a call this early? I hope nothing happened at Rogue's work_.

She was able to pick up on the third ring and speak intelligibly. "Hello, Xavior's Institute."

"Kitty, is she there? I need to speak with her!" Lance Alvers babbled nervously.

"Mr. Alvers, it is nearly one in the morning," Ororo said calmly and with authority. "You know our policy on personal calls this late at night -"

"No, you don't understand," Lance interrupted. "I need to speak with her. I need to make sure she's all right."

Ororo sensed the seriousness Lance felt with the matter. "What has happened?"

The boy on the other line was silent for a second. He needed to speak with Kitty, but he didn't want to get her in trouble. "I just, I need to talk to her. Just for a second," he begged.

The big softy that she was, Ororo sighed and gave in. "Very well. I will go wake her." She put the cordless phone on hold and elegantly walked downstairs to the dormitory wing from her attic room. She knocked softly on the door. "Kitty?" She pushed it open and said her name again. There was no answer. Ororo turned on the light to find two made beds. A motherly panic grew inside her. _She was in the rec room with Jamie earlier. Perhaps she just feel asleep watching a movie_, she calmed herself as she rushed to the rec room. The African woman threw open the door. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a floor lamp and the blue haze from the television. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Kitty Pryde asleep and nestled under a blanket on the couch; Jamie Madrox was curled up in the Lazyboy, his hands still wrapped around the video game controller. Poking out from behind the other chair, she saw two giant tube socks and assumed they belonged to Sam Guthrie, not remembering that he accompanied the other boys and Amara to the coexistence party.

Ororo placed a gentle hand on Kitty's shoulder. "Katherine."

Kitty stirred and squinted. "Huh?" It took her a moment to remember where she was: The rec room. After eating dinner, Piotr's transportation still had not thawed, so they retired to the rec room where Jamie was playing video games. They played Mario Kart and Star Wars: Empire at Risk. Kitty tried to get them to play DDR, but the boys quickly grew frustrated with their lack of coordination so they ditched the game. She must have fallen asleep watching them play some fighting game.

"You have a phone call, dear," Ororo whispered and handed Kitty the phone. "It is late, so don't be long." Ororo left the room to give the girl some privacy.

Kitty was still half asleep as she took the call off hold. "Hello?"

"Kitty!" Lance exclaimed. Kitty had to pull the phone away from her ear.

"Lance, wha?" She rubbed her eyes. "Why are you calling?"

"I had to make sure you were okay," Lance explained. "Magneto's back. Sabertooth just came by and dumped Wanda off. She was knocked out cold. I guess the shit hit the fan back at his new base. I knew you were out with that overgrown tuna can earlier, and I had to make sure you were okay."

Kitty was touched. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks, Lance."

"Good. Okay." The boy paused for a second, unsure of what to say. "I won't bother you anymore. I guess I'll let you go back to sleep. Goodnight." The phone clicked before she could reply.

Kitty rubbed her face again and threw the phone onto the coffee table. She fell backward and started to clear her head to fall back asleep in her nook on the couch. Then it hit her. _Magneto's back. Magneto's back!_ She jolted wide awake. Kitty sprung off the couch and ran through the furniture to Piotr Rasputin's sleeping form on the floor.

She shook him violently. "Peter, Peter, get up!"

"Uh," he said something in Russian before rolling over and opening his eyes. "What?" he mumbled in English after he realized where he was. He looked up and met Kitty's wide, scared eyes.

"You need to get up and go home." She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up.

Piotr pushed himself off the floor. "What is happening?"

"Magneto's back, you have to get back!" she exclaimed and grabbed his shoes from under the couch and shoved them into his chest. "Sabertooth just dumped an unconscious Wanda off at the Brotherhood house. You have to get back, like, yesterday!"

"How did you discover this?" he asked as she pushed him out the wall.

"Lance freaked out, and wanted to make sure I wasn't there getting mixed up in the welcome home party," she told him. She had nothing to hide.

Piotr was a little miffed at the mention of Lance, but the situation at hand pushed that jealousy from his mind. "I must return. Goodbye." He turned toward his vehicle.

"Bye! I'll call you!" Kitty shouted as she waved. Piotr was thankful that the car had thawed out, and he sped off faster than he had ever driven.

* * *

"Fight fair you little hussy!" Ashley ordered Ania, who was pulling Ashley's hair, as Ashley hit the other girl in the shoulder with her shoe.

"What like this, eh?" Ania yelled as she yanked Ashley's shoe from her hand and started beating her in the head. Ashley brought up her hands to save her face. Then she brought her knee up to her chest and managed to kick Ania in the stomach, knocking her backwards into the legs of some New Mutants.

"This is awesome!" Bobby said eagerly to Ray. "If we were back at the Institute, Jean or Storm would have broken it up by now and had them hugging and eating brownies." Ray nodded in agreement, wanting to shut Bobby up so he could focus more on the chick fight happening in front of his eyes.

Ashley had only gotten to a kneeling position before Ania pounced on her again. They rolled into a shelf and some CD cases fell down on top of them.

This time the one-shoed Ashley had managed to secure the top position. "How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of an overgrown Tootsie Roll Pop? One . . ." Ashley pulled Ania's body up by her shirt with one hand and slapped her across the face with the other. "Two . . ." she slapped her again.

"THREE!" Ania yelled as she freed her right hand and sucker punched Ashley in the nose. Ashley's hands went up to her face, giving Ania the advantage.

But before she had a chance to take it, the front doors to Vinyl Vintage flew off their hinges and hit the wall behind the register. The bells clanged unceremoniously as they hit the wall, then the floor.

The Master of Magnetism strode into the store like he owned the place, his cape gently swaying behind him. The crowd of protesters outside fell over each other to either run away or go to their cars to get out their guns. A few of them with weapons already on them tried to take some pot shots at Magneto, but he easily stopped the bullets in their tracks and let them fall to the ground. He ripped the guns from the perpetrators hands and crushed them like wads of paper. After that, all of the protesters ran a "safe" distance away: Far enough away that they didn't think they would get hurt, but close enough so they could still see what was going on.

"This is quite a sight," Magneto chided, then laughed. "A coexistence party? Who are you kidding?"

While the veteran X-Men were preparing themselves for Magneto's next move, the New Mutants were in awe; this was their first time actually seeing the great "villain" face to face. All but one former New Mutant was speechless: "Who are _you _kidding with that cape? That is the gayest thing I have ever seen. Have you been stealing from Prince's closet again? And don't get me started on the hat," Tabby mocked.

Bobby found his voice. "I bet he has a matching purse."

Magento's face grew red underneath the shadow of his helmet. He chose to ignore the childish jibs and continue with his speech. "How many of you are mutants?" They played along and raised their hands. "And how many are normal humans?" Ania, Sly, Amanda, and Ashley raised their hands.

Warren didn't acknowledge belonging to either group. "I don't know about you, but I'm a god."

Magneto, like everything else he didn't like and couldn't change, ignored her. "Let's see here: Twelve mutants, five humans, and three of the humans work here so they don't count." Magneto had counted the ones with name tags. "Wow, two humans willingly came to your little party, compared to the hundreds outside. What does that tell you about your little get together? About human nature?"

"That ya weren' invited!" Rogue shouted at him. For effect, Ashley, who hated to have her failures pointed out, threw her remaining shoe at him. It was aimed perfectly and hit Magneto on the side of the head before bouncing off and falling to the ground.

That was the last straw. Magneto pulled the metal frames from the crumpled doors and used them to wrap themselves around the party-goers minus his henchmen, binding their arms to their sides and, in some cases, to each other.

Magneto took the opportunity to waltz up to Rogue, who was struggling to break free from her bonds. "I know that it is your party and you can cry if you want to, but don't fool yourself in thinking that this matters." He twirled around so that his cape flew in the mutant's face. "Come, Gambit," he called as if the man was a dog.

Gambit looked longingly at Rogue. She told him with her eyes to stay, to be defiant. He had to break her glaze, it was too much for him. He hung his head and started to solemnly follow Magneto out of the store.

"Remy!" she called after him, thinking maybe he didn't read her eyes like she thought he did. He sighed and turned back. "Ah know ya don' really want ta go with him."

"It's not 'bout what I want, chere," he said.

"Ya don' owe him anything!"

Magneto decided to chime in on their conversation, "Owe me something?" He had a taste of destroying teenage relationships earlier and felt up to some more. _I might not even have to lie this time_. He laughed for effect. "My dear, what did this thief tell you about his terms of serve? Because I assure you, I did not do him any favors."

Rogue looked from Magneto to Remy with anger flashing in her eyes. _He lied. Why does everyone have ta lie ta meh! Irene lied, Mystique lied. _"Ya _lied_," she spat. Remy opened his mouth to defend himself, but Rogue's tongue was quicker. "Ah thought Ah had finally found someone who Ah could trust. Someone who understood meh. Jean was right 'bout ya! Ya were never serious 'bout bein' mah friend! Ya just wanted ta play some game. Ya manipulative rat. GET OUTTA MAH STORE!"

Remy knew he couldn't stay and argue with her, no matter how much he wanted to. Magneto wouldn't stand for it, and he could tell Rogue wasn't in the mood to listen. Besides, there was a truth to what she said. He had lied. It is amazing how one little lie, half-truth, could turn his world upside-down, depending on what spin was put on it.

He should stay and argue with her about it right now. Make sure she understood before he left that she got the wrong idea, but in order to do that he would have to say some things he didn't want the entire world to know. He would be exposed in front of these strangers who would judge him based on what he said. He didn't want that now, so he turned and followed his boss out the door.

_I will have to figure out a way to talk to her later. A call, a letter, a singing telegram. . . _

Outside, there were two spheres waiting. Magneto approached the empty one, while Remy assumed that sharing a sphere with St. John must be part of his punishment. Remy climbed in. The Australian was sitting cross-legged, sulking, with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.

"What's the matter with you?" Remy asked his obviously depressed friend. Then he thought about something. _Why did Magneto bring John in de first place_?

At the moment Remy had that thought, Magneto spoke expectantly. "Pyro. . ."

"Yeah, yeah," The depressed youth said as he pointed one of his flame thrower equipped arms at the store. "Flame on."

Remy's eyes widened, and he moved to get out of the sphere to save the people in the store. But Magneto was faster and closed up the sphere so that there was a hole only large enough to watch the inferno, then raised it a great distance off the ground.

All he could do was watch as the X-Men hurried to get everyone out of the store before it became ashes. He tried to turn away, but couldn't. It was like a car crash.

Then he caught sight of a woman with blonde braids pulled up in a pony tail in the crowd of remaining protesters. She was laughing. After she had finished, she looked up to the sphere, straight into his eyes. She waved and blew him a kiss. On her finger, Remy noticed a familiar charm before the sphere closed up completely. _Merde, I'm in trouble._

* * *

Piotr had barely hung the keys up before Magneto, and two depressed Acolytes burst into the base.

"Where have you been?!" the bossman barked.

"Uh, I could not sleep, so I drove around," the Russian told him, using the alibi he had decided on the car ride back.

"It is a good thing you have insomnia, because tomorrow we are moving our operations. None of you are to sleep until your things are packed," Magneto ordered. "And next time you go for a drive, take a motorcycle, they use less gas." He then retired to his room.

Piotr wanted to ask Remy and John what had happened that night, but by the looks on their faces, he knew it would have to wait until morning. Silently the boys went to their quarters.

After he shut the door, Remy stood in the center of his room and looked around. _Dere_ _is no way I'm packin' up dis shit tonight_. He decided his time was better spent listening to blues. He took off his trench coat and tossed it in a heap in the corner. The Cajun walked over to his dresser and pulled down his CD binder. After unzipping it, he tossed it on his bed and started to look through his CD's. Then he noticed his CD's were all in their sleeves upside-down, so he couldn't read what they were. He pulled one out that he knew should have been The Black Keys, based on its location in the binder. Instead it was The Who.

_John_, he cursed and threw the book across the room. It hit his trench coat and made a weird noise. He got up and picked up his coat. After checking the pockets, Remy pulled out the CD he bought at Vinyl Vintage last week (2). _Electrasy_, he read the band's name. It brought back memories of Rogue. He looked to his CD binder of chaos, then back at the CD in his hands and shrugged. He didn't want to try and find anything in that mess, so he popped in the bargain buy.

As the songs played he laid down on his bed and listened. _Much to emo fo' my taste_, he thought but didn't have the energy or the motivation to get up and change it. Then the third track started playing. It wasn't much of a song, just one verse a whole bunch of choruses repeated. But then something about the lyrics struck him: He found the person he needed, but something frightened him and he ran away. Went the easy way. Then the singer belted out the last line of the one verse again "Could it be that I'd fall in love . . ."

The man lying on his bed opened his red and black eyes wide at the realization. Then he remembered the situation he put himself in.

"Merde."

* * *

(1) Yes, I know what feces are. For those of you that have not had the pleasure of watching _Donnie Darko_, this comment refers to the following conversation in the movie:  
Girl 1: Mom said the school is closed today because it's flooded, and there's feces everywhere!  
Girl 2: What are feces?  
Girl 1: Baby mice.  
Girl 2: Awww.

(2) See Chapter 4.

* * *

Ha, ha, this is the end...for now! Stay tuned for the epilogue: The Toad, the Witch, and the Burning Wardrobe!


	21. Epilogue: Part I

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

**A/N**: To clarify to all those of you who are freaking out, this is not the end of the universe I created with _Nine to Five_. I have a few other stories planned (See profile page for more details). I'm hoping to at least finish two more, but I'm trying for the whole kit and kaboodle. Some thought I ended _Nine to Five _prematurely, but I felt that at the destruction of Vinyl Vintage and the turning points presented in each of the couples relationships ended this segment of their lives. The honeymoon period is over.

I was going to wait and post this Monday, but ish PMed me to encourage me to post earlier. Plus I was bored. So thank her if you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

**  
Epilogue to Nine to Five: The Toad, the Witch, and the Burning Wardrobe, Part I**

Sunlight flew threw the drapes of the window and danced on the closed eyelids of Wanda Maximoff. In response, her eyes fluttered open. Her head pounded like Freddy's footsteps as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She looked around: She was in her bedroom at the Brotherhood house. _How did I get here? Why does my head hurt like a mother . . . ?_ Then her memories of Saturday night came back to her. She screamed in anguish and the house shook.

Downstairs the other residents of the household were lounging about like any other Monday when they heard Wanda scream and the subsequent rumblings of the building. Pietro Maximoff's face grew pale.

Lance Alvers noticed Pietro's reaction and smirked. "Wanda's up. Guess you better find a good hiding spot, fearless leader." Lance scooped another spoonful of soggy, stale Apple Jacks into his mouth and promptly sat down in the good chair Pietro had run from.

* * *

Again an angst filled teenager descended onto the land of "Magnus Caesar." Anger muffled all of her other emotions: hurt, betrayal, naivety, and heartbreak. They all swelled outward from her like the bump on the back of her head she received Saturday night courtesy of Sabertooth.

Again she confidently marched toward the entrance of the building with the taste of vengeance on the tip of her tongue. The difference was that this time it was daylight, and she doubted that she had the element of surprise. In fact, she knew that they would be ready for her. But she didn't care. Even if she were to fall, she would make them feel an inkling of the pain the residents of the base had caused her.

She crossed the ditch where she and St. John Allerdyce had taken pictures of a magnetized Colossus. That enjoyable memory had been tattered. She came to the front entrance, which was ajar. The Scarlet Witch did not hesitate. She stomped into the entryway, but stopped when she reached the common room. Wanda ground her teeth in frustration. It was empty. The only thing that remained was the broken coffee table, the smashed VCR/DVD Player, and a small pile of chimney bricks on the floor.

"NNNOOOOOO!" She screamed and all of the doors slammed, the windows broke, and the chandelier crashed to the ground. The fall of the chandelier knocked something that was lying in the hole of the chimney to the ground. Suspiciously the witch neared it. She picked it up and a smile broke through the gloom shortly before being re-consumed. It was the DVD of _The Princess Bride_. The movie she and John had been watching before Sabertooth wrecked the player. The movie that John continued acting out using fire characters and funny voices. Out of curiosity she opened the case. Inside was a note:

_He's lying, please believe me. –John_

She didn't know how long she stood there looking at that note. Her total anger was subsiding as confusion and longing were fighting for rule. A couple of weeks ago, no one would be able to convince her that those feelings even existed in her being. Her goal, her mission, was clear: Destroy the man who was supposed to love her unconditionally but instead rejected and abandoned her. She had seen her life as a series of steps to achieve that goal, and life beyond its completion was shadow. John had shown her more to life. Instead of helping her complete her mission, he helped her try and complete herself and experience all of the things she had missed while being imprisoned most of her teenage years. He had given her more things to look forward too, and have fun doing. He had tried to change her mission. The anger insider her swelled up for a counter attack. _Because my father ordered him to!_ The anger was quelled some as she reread the note again: _Or did he?_

"Hey, can you come sign for these?" A man in a brown uniform called out from the open door, interrupting her thoughts.

The Witch turned and glared.

"Sign for the packages," the man repeated.

Wanda craned her neck and saw three cases behind him. _John's vegemite_. "Sure." She smiled and took the small computer and plastic writing utensil. _When I find him I can drown him in it. Maybe I should stop somewhere and see if I can find some purple peeps too_, she plotted.

The delivery guy snatched up his computer as soon as she had finished and, Quik like the rabbit, he sped out the door, never turning his back on the Witch with the evil grin spread across her face. A mile away from the destroyed base, the delivery man started breathing again.

Again Wanda looked at the note in her hand and her grin faded. A raven flew in one of the broken windows and cawed at her. She looked at the big bird on the bent chandelier annoyingly, then sighed. She could do nothing here. The Scarlet Witch left, confused and unfulfilled.

* * *

Piotr carried the last crate from the moving van into their new ski-base. He plopped it on the floor at the feet of his two teammates and friends. St. John had sprawled himself across the plastic covered couch and Remy was attempting to get comfortable sitting atop a couple of wooden crates. Magneto strolled into the room, which would soon be the common room. He looked around, surveying the room.

"So how do you enjoy the new base?" Magneto asked his minions, although he didn't really care if they did like it or not.

John glared angrily at Magneto's happy tone of voice. The only words he could manage to get out without expletives were: "It's too bloody cold."

Remy agreed. "Cajuns an' snow do not get along."

"That's nice. Know that your opinions were heard and discarded." Magneto glanced at St. John. "Especially yours, St. John. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have had to move."

St. John's face remained frozen in a furious state. _Bullshit! Wanda found our base on her own _long _before I ever took her home. He's just pissed, because his daughter has…had a relationship with me. But you made sure that was screwed up straight away. grrr I wish Remy hadn't taken my lighter for safety reasons. Now she won't even acknowledge my presence. Not one sexy death glare or a leisurely hex bolt._ He sighed, remembering the fire in the eyes of his ex-girlfriend. The fire he could watch until the end of time and never want to control it. Just watch, witness. _I'm so pathetic. At least the Cajun is with me in the girl trouble category_.

"I want this place cleaned and unpacked by 8 o'clock," Magneto announced to Colossus, Gambit, Pyro, Sabertooth, and Mastermind. "Then you will all meet in the war room for a briefing on next weeks activities." Magneto dramatically turned so that his cape whipped around him. No one else moved. After a few steps he turned back around to face his men. "What are you waiting for?"

"Which room is the war room, sir?" Colossus politely asked.

Magneto's eyes grew slightly wider after he realized his mistake, though he would never admit it was one. "Uh, that room over there." He pointed to a large room off the kitchen that anyone else living there would make a mess hall. But being home to a bunch of bachelors, who needs a dining room? They'd never actually eat at a table unless they had to.

Magneto started to leave dramatically again when he noticed that Mastermind, aka Jason Wyngarde started to carry some boxes into another room. "Not you Jason, I need to discuss some plans with you in my study." Jason obediently put down his box and followed the regal leader further into the base.

It didn't take long for the boys to get tired of unpacking. "Bloody hell," John announced as he looked the room filled with crates and boxes which he and the others had just spent an hour moving around. "We didn't even make a dent in this. I'm going to take my shit out and put everything else in the corner and throw a sheet over it. Who's with me?"

"I do not want to anger Magneto," Piotr said. "Besides there is little else to do."

"There's plenty of other stuff to do!" John argued but in his mind he couldn't think of anything. But he was sure he didn't want to waste the day in there, in the dome.

"Non. Not only is dis base farther away from civilization dan de last one, but it's surrounded by damn snow. Leavin' de base isn't worth trudging d'rough dat white stuff. De only place around for miles is the ski lodge, de uh... Ararose or somethin' like dat," Remy sided with Piotr.

"Yeah, that's it. I could learn how to ski. How's that for something to do?" John refused to be bested.

Remy burst out laughing. "You? Skiing! Dat's something I'd pay to see." Remy stood up off his crate and got back to work as he continued to laugh. Piotr did the same shortly after..

_I'll show them_. And John quickly searched through the mess and found his own belongings. He took his boxes to the very end of the hallway on the opposite side of the base as Magneto's study and room.

"I claim this land in the name of Australia!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. He took out his emergency book of matches and burnt the Australian flag into the door, southern cross of stars and all. St. John named it after his favorite Australian bird. "It shall henceforth be called Wampoo." From a garbage bag, the firebug pulled out his Sponge-Bob Square-Pants sheet, then a plain white sheet. With the white sheet still in hand he went back to the new common room and tossed it haphazardly over some crates. A few minutes later a gust of cold air flew through the dome and the front doors slammed.

* * *

Another gust of cold air entered the base again at 8:13 pm. St. John didn't even bother to wipe off the layers of snow that covered him as he strolled through the base, leaving puddles of cold snowy water behind him. The "war room" was silent when he entered. The whole team looked at him with sympathy and wonder as he took a seat next to Remy as if everything was normal. John finally looked up at Magneto standing at the head of the table. _He looks like he's about to shit a brick! _he thought and started laughing internally. John was surprised at his apathy toward the anger of the older mutant. Magneto continued to glare at the pyromaniac and John looked back at him with a smile on his face.

After a few more minutes of silence John put up a mitten hand and smiled and waved at his "leader." "G'day." If this was a cartoon, steam would be rolling out of Magneto's ears. Magneto took a deep breath and remembered his meditation training.

"Pyro," Magneto addressed John through clenched teeth. "What time is it?"

"I donna know," he honestly answered. "8:30 ish?"

"And what time did I say the briefing in the war room started?" His teeth were grinding now.

"Don't remember," John told him. "You said something like 'unpack by eight and then we all shall meet in the war room for brie and nut cookies but never said when." John treaded on thin ice as he mocked the master of magnetism. John dramatically glanced around the table. "I thought that brie and nut cookies were a strange combination, but who am I to say no to food? Where are the brie and cookies? I'm hungry. Actually hot cocoa sounds better." John pushed back his chair and tossed his wet hat and mittens on the table. "Anyone else want some?" Piotr and Jason looked like they were going to say something but the look on Magneto's face stopped them.

The metal chair that John had just been sitting in elevated, swept back underneath John. John's first reaction was too grab onto the seat of the chair to prevent himself from falling, which is just what Magneto wanted. A few seconds later John was tossed across the room and the back of the chair slammed into the wall next to the kitchen door.

"Bloody hell!" John shouted, trying not to sound phased. "You could have just 'Yes, John. I would love a mug. With extra marshmallows too.'"

Magneto lost it. "THERE WILL BE NO HOT CHOCOLATE AND NO COOKIES! THIS IS A MEETING YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN SERIOUSLY! COMING IN TWENTY MINUTES LATE IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!" The legs of the chair bent upward to hug John in the seat which was still several feet above the ground. "AND TRACKING SNOW INTO THE DOME IS NOT ACCEPTABLE EITHER! DID YOU WANT THE PLACE TO RUST!" Remy stifled a laugh. "AND I THOUGHT I MADE MYSELF CLEAR THAT ALL EVERYTHING WAS TO BE UNPACKED BY 8 PM! WHY IS THAT PILE OF CRATES I ASSIGNED TO YOU TO UNPACK STILL SITTING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE COMMON ROOM?"

"What crates?" John played dumb. The legs grew tighter around his lap and John squirmed a little more. The chair flew out the room and hovered in front of a pile of crates half covered by John's white sheet. The crates weren't in the corner like John had thought they were, but almost right in the center of the room. _Damn this room is bigger than I thought_. John continued to be a smart ass, "I still don't see these crates you speak of." Magneto's face grew red and angry. "Are you okay, Mags? I know you are seeing things, but you are looking flush now too. Have you been taking all of your medication?"

"I don't have time for this!" Magneto shouted and brought the chair back into the war room. "If I did not need you for the upcoming mission I would have put you into the infirmary for you insolence. You are to sit down, shut up, and pay attention for the rest of the meeting. Afterwards you are to finish unpacking and be confined to your room. And find the answering machine."

"Remy covered for his two teammates (1). "I d'ink it broke in de move."

John looked down at the puddles forming under his wet mittens and started silently playing with the water.

"Did you hear me!" Magneto banged his fists on the table.

"Yes, dad. I heard you. I'm grounded," John mocked. Magneto growled and continued with the briefing.

Magneto took to the head of the table and took a deep breath. He started talking, John wasn't paying attention. He was playing with the water he dripped on the table. It wasn't until Magneto called out his name at the end of his powerpoint presentation full of graphs and maps that John was zapped back into reality.

"PYRO! Do you have any questions about your mission?" the annoyed leader asked.

John looked cluelessly around to Piotr and Remy. Remy winked and nodded to his spaced out friend. "Uh, nope. No questions at all," John replied, knowing that Remy would fill him in later.

"Fine. Dismissed." The master of magnetism sighed. Magneto knew he was lying but did not feel like using the energy to explain things again. He also didn't know how to go backwards in the powerpoint slide show.

John sped up his walk a little to catch Remy before he went to his room to pine over Rogue. "Hey mate. What's my mission again?"

"You are going to stand on top of de Bay River Bridge an' cause a distraction while I steal something," Remy told the firebug.

"That's it! Bucket Head made all those graphs for a distraction and theft job? Talk about overkill." John continued to walk next to Remy.

"That wasn' the whole meetin'. Just the important part concerning you. Toothy and Piotr have another mission. Some other current events goin' on wit' mutants. D'en d'ere was de chores chart."

"Do we have to take turns cleaning Toothy's litter box? 'Cause I'm not going near that thing. I'm not that insane."

Remy stopped outside his room and turned to John. "John you gotta stop pissin' off Magneto. He's not going to take it much longer, and I don' know what he'll do to you when he fully snaps."

"Awww." John pretended to get tears in his eyes, "You do love me, Remy." John hugged the Cajun.

Remy lifted his arms then shoved away the Aussie. "I'm serious, John. You either have to stop it or get out while you're still breathin'. I don' think Mags is the kind of guy to come after you if you leave now before you done anything really stupid, but he will hurt you if you stay and keep this up."

"I think you're being serious enough for the both of us," John told him.

Remy shook his head. "I've worked for guys who would have snapped you're neck ten times already. You don' want to push Magneto much further."

"Wow, ten times? I must have had a pretty durable neck."

"Please leave John," Remy asked one last time.

"Will you come with me?" John showed a little fear for the first time in their conversation. "Not like what you want is here either."

Remy wished he could consider the offer but because of the benefits he received with his employment with Magneto, he knew he couldn't. "No, I can' leave. I'm trapped here like Piotr. You can still get out, d'ough."

"And go where? No money, no shelter -" John said.

"Better d'an no life," Remy told him.

"I don't have a life," the heartbroken John said. "Mags made sure of that." The pyromaniac thought for a second. "You know, he won't be able to hide from her forever. And I want to be here when she destroys him."

Remy looked sympathetically at his friend. "Don' get killed before d'en, mon ami." Remy turned and headed into his room. He turned back for a second. "An' if you ever touch my CD's again I'll be de one to snap your neck (2)."

John stifled a fake sob. "And I thought you loved me!" John turned and ran down the hall and sought refuge in the land of Wampoo.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" St. John called as he slammed the door to the dome and stomped the snow off himself. It was his third time snow boarding and he was getting rather good. Snow boarding almost totally distracted him from his miserable love life. Almost. John kicked off his boots and started to unzip his jacket as Magneto happen to walk grumpily by.

"What do you think you are doing?" his boss shouted.

The Aussie replied with question in his voice, "Talking off my jacket instead of rusting dome?"

"No, with this!" Magneto summoned John's ski lift pass from the zipper on John's coat to his hand.

"Nothing right now, but if you stick it to your forehead and spin around really fast a couple of times it will force me to laugh," John insolently remarked. "It's a lift pass. To use the ski lift to get to the base from the bottom of the mountain," he used his "talking to a three-year old voice."

"Do not be smart with me. You can not go around wearing this. If someone got their hands on this they could easily find our where the base is," Magneto told him.

"As easy as looking us up in the phone book?"

Magneto grew red again as he had been lately when working with John, who grew more daring and defiant as of late. "You will not wear this when leaving the base."

"Then how do you expect me to get back to this dingo dung pile if I can't use the lift. My powers will just melt the snow, not bring forth big, cold, tacky balls to take me places." John grew angry now.

Magneto took a deep breath. "You will wear this on the outside of your clothing only when necessary. It must be kept hidden other times, especially on missions where it could be caught on camera."

"Fine, fine." John was sick of dealing with Magneto, snatched his pass from his boss's hand as he passed, and stomped to his room.

Jason came up behind Magneto. "Are you sure he will do what you want him to do?" The door to Wampoo slammed.

Magneto smiled. "I'm positive everything will go as planned."

* * *

(1) Piotr and John destroyed the answering machine in Chapter 19 – So, What's the Verdict?

(2) See Chapter 20.

**A/N**: Next up: The uncut version of "The Toad, the Witch, and the Wardrobe!"


	22. Epilogue: Part II

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, this is the uncut version of "The Toad, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" if _Nine to Five _had actually happened. I took a transcript of the episode and added comments and scenes that were not seen in the cartoon. Enjoy :)

* * *

**  
Epilogue to Nine to Five: The Toad, the Witch, and the Burning Wardrobe, Part II**

Gasping for air, a young man with fiery orange hair struggled to climb the last rung of a very tall ladder to get to the top of the Bay River Bridge. He dramatically threw his body out into the open air, and rolled onto his back.

"Gambit to Pyro: Are you d'ere yet!" Remy LeBeau's voice sounded staticy on the communicator.

St. John Allerdyce aka Pyro groaned and pressed the transmitter on his ear/mouth communicator. "Keep your pants on, mate." He gasped. "If you don't you'll be the distraction, not me."

"Stop horsing around an' make wit' de fire," Remy responded.

"Hey, did you climb a million stories of ladders and stairs? No, I didn't think so." John sat up. "Horses, hum, that's a good idea. You are quite a good muse, Remy."

"Good, now dat you are creatively inspired can we get dis over wit'?" the thief asked.

"Okay, okay." John relinquished his playful banter. "One fun fire distraction coming up!"

* * *

Wanda sat sulking in the back seat of the taxi cab. She had been searching for signs of her father and his underlings all week and had come up with nil. Although she had no money she managed to scare this cabbie enough to give her a ride back to the Brotherhood house. She really needed a shower after sleeping in homeless shelters and on doorstops all week, not that the Brotherhood house was much cleaner, but it did have running water. Last time she checked that is.

She had searched in every bar, mutant hangout, police station, candy store and candle shop in the area, but Magneto appeared to be keeping a tighter leash on Pietro and his other lackeys these days. The thought of returning to the house made her strangely excited. _I wonder if he called_, she thought before she knew it. She shook her head and ground her teeth at herself for thinking such a thing. _That fire obsessed minion had better stay clear of me. He might get it worse than my father if he doesn't. How could he betray me like that! Oh yes, I remember, he never cared about me in the first place. It all must have been just an act. The kissing and making out were just perks of the job. _The scene that took place in Magneto's old headquarters played through her head again. _He played me! Just like one of his dancing candle flames! _

Wanda reached into her pocket to pull out her meditation balls Agatha had given her but instead her hand fell upon a crumpled piece of paper. "He's lying, please believe me. - John" it said. The witch shoved the note back into her pocket. She had tried to forget about the note. It made things much simpler to forget it. _But what if he is telling the truth?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by incessant honking. "Come on! I ain't got all day here!" the disgusting cabbie in the tasteless Hawaiian shirt yelled to the world. As if in reply, there was an explosion and the cab shook.

"Huh?" Wanda looked out the window to see the towers of the bridge on fire.

"What is that?" The cabbie again talked to no one in particular. Two more towers ignited in flames, the fire swayed this way and that until forming four galloping horses. They speed down the towers and stampeded down the highway over top the cars.

The cabbie got out of the car and tried to yell over the screaming people. "The oil tanker is gonna blow! RUN!" He took his own advice and turned tail.

Meanwhile, Wanda slowly and calmly got out of the back seat of the cab. Shielding her eyes with her hand she gazed up at the source of the horses. Through the flickering flames she caught sight of a familiar form getting a little happy with the flame-throwers.

"Yeah! I haven't had this much fun since Pizza Planet (1)!" John laughed as he played a little more."Run you little commuters! Run!"

Wanda narrowed her eyes at her ex-boyfriend and all those feelings she had been debating went away as betrayal once again filled her. She narrowed her eyes.

* * *

The explosion was also heard by two people cruising in a red and white striped convertible. The two look up to the source of the sound and see the bridge burning in unusual ways.

Scott's eyes narrowed, remember his misfortune he met when he crossed paths with Magneto's firebug. "Pyro. It's coming from the bridge."

"Let's go!" ordered Jean, equally resentful toward St. John.

* * *

From the top of the bridge Pyro noticed a lone figure dressed in red not running from his show. _She's here! That was fast._ John started manipulating the flame differently. First he greeted her with waving hand and a smiley face. Then he all but dissipated the flame to show the start of a new sentence. Then he made a helmet and a house and some guy skiing. _I hope she got that._

As Wanda watched the flames change form, her facial expression changed from angry, to confused, to annoyed. "Slap happy eggplant house _what_?!" she exclaimed to herself, not understanding the message. She was never very good at Pictionary, although she never took anyone hostage for laughing at her horrible drawings (2). Pyro repeated the message without any more clarity coming to the Scarlet Witch. "This ends. You come down and face me NOW!" the witch yelled and shot a hex bolt up and hit Pyro.

"AAHHH!" Pyro yelled as he fell off the tower. Luckily he was able to cling to one of the cables of the suspension bridge. "She's trying to kill me! Are you really surprised?" he said to himself. John let go of the cable with one hand and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his ski lift ticket that Magneto had been so certain to lead someone to the base if "lost." Wanda shot another hex bolt at him, and he just barely dodged it. "Forget this, I better swim for my life!" He tossed his lift ticket toward the girl and jumped onto the long railing of the bridge. The Scarlet Witch set off one more hex bolt before picking up the ticket. Pyro was not able to dodge this one as it hit the back of his flame-thrower setting it off uncontrollably as he fell into the Bay River.

As the witch stood back up, the fire had reached the gas truck the cabbie was concerned with earlier. As predicted, it blew, sending the Scarlet Witch off the side of the bridge. She was able to hold onto the side, dangling in mid air. The heat from the fire weakened more cables and they begin to snap. The road shifted, sending vehicles toward the mutant struggling to hold on. She was able to dodge the first blue SUV by letting one hand go. As she tried again to climb back onto the road, the towers started to collapse themselves.

Jean and Scott made it to the bridge for some crowd control, with Storm arriving shortly afterward to put out the blaze with monsoon rains. A wet Jean saw someone struggling to climb back onto the bridge and went to help her up.

No sooner did Wanda get two feet onto the ground did she start looking around. "Where did that little weasel go?"

"I think he's gone. Are you okay?" Jean wondered at the change of attitude between Pyro and the Scarlet Witch. Last time she checked they were making out in every slightly dark corner.

"I'll live," was Wanda's dry reply.

Scott ran over to the girls. "Storm's got it under control." Wanda rolled her eyes at the obvious statement. The team leader of the X-Men with a confused expression on his face took a few steps toward the witch. "Was that _Pyro_ after you?" He was wondering the same thing as Jean. "You guys have a fight or something?"

"Yes," Wanda answered. "He was delivering a little message from my father, as always." She ripped her arm from Jean's grasp.

"Magneto!" Jean half asked.

"No, Raúl, my other arrogant, manipulative, father who leads a band of mutant terrorists," Wanda replied sarcastically.

Jean shrugged her reply off, having been used to doing it with whatever Rogue usually says to her. "What kind of message?" she searched for information.

Wanda turned away from the couple and started walking away. "He wants me to stop looking for him and for his errand boy, my brother."

The redheaded X-Men and shrugged at the witch in confusion. "But Pietro's not hiding. He's back with the Brotherhood."

That stopped Wanda in her tracks. "HUH!"

* * *

Across town in a decrypted old mansion four voices were heard arguing interrupted only by the occasional earthquake. As the Scarlet Witch advanced along the walkway, the house grew silent again. Before her hand could reach the knob, the front door flung open to reveal an ecstatic yet revolting Todd Tolanski.

"Babycakes! You've come back to me!" Todd exclaimed. Wanda sneered in disgust and shoved him sideways into the wall. She walked determinedly into the living room. Todd quickly recovered from being discarded and followed her into the room with his hands in his pockets.

Wanda put her hands on her hips. "Where is he?" she asked in her dangerous tone and glared at Todd.

More than willing to help, Todd answered truthfully, "Pietro? Hidin' in the closet." He jerked his thumb toward said closet. The Witch gritted her teeth and threw a hex bolt at the closet door, which flies off its hinges. Wanda was slightly disappointed that the door didn't hit Todd. She squinted at the closet and managed to make out her white haired, blue-eyed brother peaking out from behind some coats.

"Thanks a lot, wart boy," Pietro grumbled and crawled out of the closet.

Wanda approached her brother with her arms crossed and her face glaring. Not wanting to play any games she went straight to the point. "All right, Pietro, where's Magneto?"

"I-I still don't know. Wanda, no lie!" the speed talker stuttered. "He only contacts me when he needs me."

"What a loving father to his only son," she said sarcastically. "He doesn't even leave a forwarding address?" she asked her brother skeptically. Wanda didn't wait for an answer before pulling the ski pass off of her pocket. "What's this?" She shoved the tag in her brother's face.

Pietro continued to play dumb. "Uh, how do I know?" Wanda looked down at the ticket in confusion. At seeing his sister in a slightly more vulnerable position than usual, Pietro ventured a guess. "I-it looks like a ski lift ticket or something."

Less than a second later, Todd snatched the tag. "Ararose? Hey! Must be Mount Ararose. That is a local ski resort."

"Well aren't you just full of handy information," Pietro remarked and rubbed his chin as the Scarlet Witch just stared in amazement that Toad was actually useful.

Todd used this opportunity to hit on Wanda again. Sliding himself underneath her arm, he said, "Say the word, poopsie, and we'll hit the lodge and sip cocoa by the fire." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

The word fire reminded her of her first boyfriend and betrayer. She was more ready than ever to face him and belittle him into nothing; at least she thought she was. Todd was in her way and pissing her off. "Eurgh!" she shoved the mutant out of they way. "Get outta my way!" The Scarlet Witch determinedly started walking out of the Brotherhood house.

Todd annoyingly followed her. "But, sweetums, I-I'm your servant, your slave. Let me come with you!" Then he added dramatically as he hopped in her path and stood up straight. "I will lay down my life for you! Just say the word, I am at your beck and call!"

"I beckon you to get out of my way and leave me alone!" she yelled at him in frustration. "Revenge is mine alone, and I will not have you screwing it up!" Todd continued to follow her despite what she said. "Why are you still following me!" she whipped around.

"Because I love you, pookie bear," Todd answered innocently.

Hoping to break his heart once and for all, she shouted back at him, "Well, I don't love you!"

Todd was not as discouraged as Wanda had hoped. "J-j-just tell me what I have to be to win your love!"

The Scarlet Witch stopped for a second with her hand on the wall. She scowled, then said almost depressed, "Someone else." Without looking she zapped the amphibian into the stove in the kitchen. After she heard the satisfying clatter of pots and pans and painful groans, Wanda slammed the door.

"Someone else?" Todd mused. "I can do that." Todd grinned and hopped off to cause some mischief.

* * *

Wanda turned up the collar on her blood red jacket and readjusted the headband she stole from some unsuspecting snow bunny in the lodge. She had a winter coat in the Brotherhood house but after her dramatic exit she didn't dare go back in and ruin the atmosphere. She looked around the resort and took in the landscape while trying to catch a glimpse of Magneto's new base. A chilly wind whipped by and she shivered. _It's too bloody cold_, she thought, not even noticing that her ex-boyfriends slang had worked its way into her speak. The Witch didn't see anything from the bottom of the mountain so she got in line for the gondolas that would give her a better view.

After settling in the gondolas, Wanda's eyes searched the horizon once again for her father's base. Then unconsciously her eyes shifted to the empty seat beside her. She almost sighed when she noticed a tall handsome man walking her way.

"Quite a view," he said and moved to sit down in the seat next to her.

"What?" she asked, confused as to why this stranger would take the seat next to her when she was spreading the vibe out for miles that she wished to be alone.

"Going up for the skiing?" he tried to make small talk.

"No," the Witch said and turned to face forward. She almost added_, No, I'm going to the top of the mountain to find my dead beat father's new terrorist base and destroy him and torture my ex-boyfriend for fun. What brings you here?_ But she guessed that he was the kind of guy who would assume that more words meant she actually wanted to have a conversation with him.

But she was wrong, this guy assumed that any words meant she was interested. He smiled and said, "I'm a skiing fool, babycakes."

The black and red haired head snapped around to take a closer look at the idiot sitting next to her. His smile revealed the greenish and uneven smile of the one and only Todd Tolanski. "TOAD!" she yelled and stood up with blue sparks flying around her. The image-inducer Todd stole from Kurt Wagner aka Nightcrawler fizzled out and the tall stranger was now the slouching Toad.

"What gave me away?" he asked innocently. He didn't get a chance to say anything more as he was hexed out of the gondola and into the snow.

The gondola ride ended with no further sightings of Todd or Magneto's base. Wanda glanced around and decided to follow some snow boarders out into the mountain. As she was readjusting her jacket the wind blew her scarf away.

"Don't you worry miss. I'll get it for you." The man then hopped down the sidewalk chasing the scarf.

The Scarlet Witch's eyes widen in surprise, then she glares at the man, a blue mist surrounding her once again. "Toad!" Toad grabbed the scarf mid-hop and Wanda hexed him into a mound of snow, then continued her search.

* * *

Magneto dressed in his full regalia paced back and forth in the security room of his new snow bunny dome base. He was mumbling to himself, "Why hasn't that idiot left yet! Every other day he barely spends two minutes in the base before sneaking out to snow board the mountain, but today, the day I had counted on his insolence, he stays inside wrapped in blankets and sipping hot cocoa." Magneto looked up at the screens labeled Ararose and watched as the Scarlet Witch wandered aimlessly in and out of the cameras' views. The he glanced at the internal cameras where he saw Gambit and Pyro playing the same card game of Egyptian Rat Screw they had been playing for the last hour and a half. Before that they had a three and a half hour game of War which ended when they surprisingly got bored of it.

SWAPT! The boys hands when down on top of the pile of cards that had accumulated. "HA, HA!" John gloated, "I got 'em!" Remy smiled his "I've got a secret smile" and gestured with his head to their hands. John stopped laughing momentarily and looked down to find that Remy's hand had reached the pile first. "WHa! How!" Remy continued to smile and added the cards to his pile. John threw down his hand and pouted. "I hate playing with you."

"Come on, mon ami," Remy smooth talked him. "D'e game is not over yet." John sat at attention and took his cards back into his hand.

Magneto sighed and shook his head. He glanced back at Wanda. She had spent the whole day on the mountain and aside from her running nose, had caught nothing. "She's going to leave soon, time to take action." He walked over to some beautifully colored buttons next to a microphone. He pressed the green one and a chime sounded over the PA system. Then he pressed the blue button and everyone in the base covered their ears with their hands as a high pitched squeal came out of the speakers. Swearing was heard as Magneto tried to move the microphone and cover his ears at the same time.

"Ahchm,ahchm," the boss man cleared his throat after the squealing stopped. "Mastermind, please meet me in my office." Everyone went back to what they were doing previously, and Magneto went into his adjoined office and sat behind his desk. After a few minutes he got up and adjusted the lighting to make himself seem more menacing. Thirty seconds later he reached across his desk to turn on his lamp. After being satisfied with the percentage of shadow being cast in the room he settled back in his chair and folded his hands on the desk. One minute later Magneto caught himself twiddling his thumbs.

He stood up abruptly and stomped back into the security room. He looked at all the screens trying to find his minion Mastermind. The Master of Magnetism found Mastermind in the laundry room. Ironing his clothes. With headphones on. Dancing. And singing Cher tunes into a spray starch can.

"Mastermind!" Magneto yelled into the PA, making everyone in the base jump as there were no warning chimes. Jason Wyndgard aka Mastermind jumped an extra three feet into the air, the starch can slipped out of his hands, and he stumbled to catch it before it hit the ground. "In my office NOW, Wyndgard!" Jason fumbled to put the can back on the ironing board and ran to Magneto's office.

"Yes, sir." Mastermind burst into the room gasping.

"Sit, Jason." Magneto moved a chair toward him. Nervously Jason took it. Since Magneto had his helmet on, he could not read the man's thoughts or intentions and worried that he might end up getting a ride on Magento's Wild Metal Chair Ride like John did a while back. But Jason needn't be frightened as Magneto wanted a favor from him.

"Jason, I need you to make a telepathic suggestion to Pyro. I need to to make him go out snow boarding," Magneto told Wyndgard.

Jason was confused. "But I thought you didn't want me messing with any of your recruits heads. You said you could manipulate them perfectly well on your own without telepathy."

The man with the bucket on his head gritted his teeth. "And now I am ordering you to make Pyro go snow boarding!" Magneto jiggled Mastermind's seat a little for effect.

Jason quickly stumbled out of the chair and ran to the door. "Will do, sir," he said and ran away.

Back in the security room, Magneto watched the scene in the common room:

"Ha, ha! I got you Remy!" John gloated, "You only have two cards left. All hail the Pharaoh of the Egyptian Rats!" He stood up and bowed. After readjusting his blanket-cape, he sat back down to continue playing.

"You have not won yet, your majesty." Remy smirked. Remy was considering actually letting John win. The firebug hadn't been this excited about anything since the breakup with Wanda. Things were starting to get back to normal and the Cajun was beginning to worry only about his teammate's sanity instead of his life as well.

Just before Remy laid down his last card John jumped up, knocking over the card table and tossing off his cape. "I am going snow boarding," he announced.

Remy pushed the table off of himself and stared bewildered at his teammate. "What are you talking about? Since Wanda knocked you into de river, you swore off any an' all forms o' water."

"Snow is marvy, mate," John said randomly.

"You said snow was de most evil form o' water an' spent an hour panicked dat you had frostbite from walking to de base in your wet clothes," Remy reminded his friend.

"Snow is marvy, mate. I'm going snow boarding," John repeated and walked mechanically to his room to get his gear.

"Something's not right here." Remy looked around the room. There was a slight movement of shadow coming from the work out room. Remy pretended not to notice the shadow and walked casually into the hallway heading toward John's room as if he was following the possessed pyromaniac. He stopped and put his back to the wall just out of sight of the gymnasium. There he waited for the perpetrator to emerge. The shadow finally moved toward his hallway and Remy bent his knees to prepare to pounce.

WHAM! Remy stumbled to the ground as snow bunny John busted out of his room in his winter gear and trampled him. "Snow is marvy!" he shouted as he ran out of the metal dome.

"Mon dieu," Remy mumbled as he moved to his hands and knees to stand. He heard a set of feet heading away from him toward Magneto's office. Remy leapt up to follow them. He only moved two steps before the dome turned dark except for flashing emergency lights and a fire alarm. He almost considered restarting his pursuit until he saw the black smoke billowing out of the door to the basement. Sighing, Remy headed toward the nearest exit, meeting Piotr on the way. Outside they met up with Sabortooth and Jason. Magneto emerged a few minutes later, and the five stood outside in knee deep snow, drenched in fire extinguisher fluid. The alarms went off and the lights came back on.

Trudging back into the base single file, Remy leaned over to Piotr. "I d'ought we disconnected all de smoke detectors after Pyro made a game o' how many times he could set d'em off in an hour."

"We must have missed one," Piotr sighed.

"No wonder John ran out of the base so fast," Remy reasoned, figuring the Snow is Marvy mystery solved, much to Mastermind's relief.

They all went back to their business inside the base. Sabertooth and Piotr to their perspective rooms, Magneto to his office, Remy to pick up the common room, and Wyndgard to his pile of smoldering laundry lying beneath the iron.

* * *

"This was a waste of time." Wanda had been out on the slopes for hours and had found nothing. "Probably just a distraction so father could make contact with my dear brother." She kicked a pile of wood outside the ski lodge. "One more run, then I'm going home to beat up on Pietro."

She walked away from the lodge with a snow board underneath her arm. She squinted and scanned the ski lifts one last time and her luck had changed. Her eyes narrowed when she saw her former love interest dressed in what looked a lot like a puffy version of his uniform. Her eyes were glued to his orange jump suit as he got on a ski lift.

With a new sense of determination, Wanda strapped her foot onto her snow board and glided over to the same lift. As the chair came underneath her, a blond man in a blue winter jacket sat down beside her. With dreams of revenge formulating in her mind, she paid little attention to the man until he spoke to her. "Fine day for skiing, ja?"

Wanda's mind was snapped from her plotting and looked at the man sitting next to her. "Yes, it's ..." Her voice drifted off as she drank in the Swiss hottie. _Damn me and my attraction to men with accents_. "...beautiful," she finally finished her sentence. _There probably isn't any brain underneath all that muscle and accent, but I could probably stare at him all day_.

The handsome man spoke again. "I'm Eric, da ski instructor. I haven't see you here before." He smiled, and Wanda melted a little.

She fiddled with her collar a little and looked away so he would not see her blushing a little. "No, I..." She then spotted Pyro down below, boarding away from the designated hills. Wanda let out a little sigh that she would have to leave the presence of a real man. "I have to go." She didn't even take a fleeting look at Eric before jumping down from the lift and following the Australian.

"Uh, wait!" "Eric the ski instructor" yelled after her as he slid off the chair then tripped over his skis and fell flat on his face. Wanda was too focused on her mission to hear him or notice the fizzle of the hologram as the image-inducer Todd Tolanski stole from Kurt Wagner shorted out again. "Aw, rats. I was that close."

There were few tracks on the back trails that Pyro took. Wanda spit some pine needles out of her mouth as she hit another branch. She stopped and watched John effortlessly maneuver around the forest then take a jump over a cliff. _I didn't realize he was that good at snow boarding_. She leisurely boarded over the cliff and looked out. Pyro was heading over to a giant metal dome nestled between two mountains. A hole opened up in the side of the jiffy popper and John went inside.

"Magneto," Wanda growled. Her mouth was wet with anticipation, she felt her heart beat pick up and a new burst of energy swell inside her. _At last, today will be the day. Everything will change_. She was lost in her thoughts when a small metal sphere flew up in front of her, "Huh?" Holes opened up and her face was enveloped in a white gas. The Scarlet Witch fell to her knees and coughed. She looked up at the base and tried to crawl. _Not another trap, John_, she was a little reluctant to admit it. _'He's lying, believe me' my ass. I hate you._

* * *

As St. John stomped into the base, he ripped off his outerwear and went to go vent his confusion on the last person he remembered talking too.

"Remy!" John practically knocked down the door to the Acolyte's room. "What possessed me to go out into the blistering cold to relive my frostbite experience!" Remy took off his head phones and looked at his teammate and friend. Remy continued to lay on his bed with his head turned toward the Australian. When Remy didn't respond to his question, John added, "Well?"

"Oh, you're askin' me?" Remy sat upright. "I d'ought it was a rhetorical question."

"One minute I'm cuddling up in the base playing cards with you, and then next I'm running outside to frolic in the devil's dandruff! Did you spike my cocoa!" the Australian accused the Cajun.

If John didn't say insane things all the time Remy would have thought he was losing it. "Why would I do dat?"

"Why would I go torture myself!"

Remy turned his body to John and set his CD player down on the bed. Remy used his most calm and truthful tone of voice. "John, Tryin' to analyze your actions is like beatin' a gator wit' a popsicle stick. You just end up bleeding and down one popsicle stick."

"What kind of analogy was that?" John burst out. "And why is the base coated in this slippery stuff!" John had just remembered his other question he came up with while sliding over the floor to Remy's quarters. "It looks like fire extinguisher fluid."

"It is," Remy said in an annoyed tone.

Fake tears welled up in the pyromaniac's eyes as his face grew pouty. "You had a fire without me?"

"Yeah, de one you set before you ran outta da base screamin' 'Snow is marvy!'" Remy remembered that he should be angry with John and stood up, pushed him out of his room, and slammed the door in his face.

"Huh? What? Fire?" John babbled as he tried to figure out what Remy was talking about. Unsuccessful after several minutes, he went to go ask the calmer, less grudge holding teammate, Piotr.

"Hey, tin can!" John called as he ominously peaked his head around the open doorway of Piotr Rasputin. There was no one in the room. "Must be moving around boxes again," John supposed and started to walk through the base calling his name. "Petey! Here, Petey, Petey, Petey!" After a near brush with death passing Sabertooth's quarters, John gave up his search and went back to Remy's room. "Remy, did Petey have some secret mission today or something!" He yelled through the door.

"Non, I don' d'ink so," Remy called back.

"I can't find him anywhere," John told him.

Remy wouldn't open the door. "So you came back to annoy me?"

"I didn't set any fire in the base today!" the pyromaniac defended himself. "Since when do I set fires and walk away? I always stay to watch and play!"

Remy recognized the truth in that statement. His suspicions from earlier returned. _Who was dat lurking around?_ Remy got up and swung open the door to his room. John, who had been leaning against it, fell into Remy's arms.

"My hero," John said dreamily before Remy dropped him to the floor.

"D'ere is something goin' on here and I'm gonna find out what." The Cajun stepped over the firebug and walked determinedly down the hallway. The two of them searched the dome.

Remy and John's search together had been just as fruitful as John search alone. The only unusual thing was that the door to the training room was locked, but they knew Piotr usually only lifted weights in the weight room if he was working out alone, and he never locked the door. So the search continued. At one point, they thought they heard someone coming around the corner, but it turned out to be no one.

While Remy and John were in one of the vacant bedrooms trying to find a way into the attic, Remy heard a shuffling and a thud from Piotr's room one floor below them.

In the closet standing haphazardly on a trash can, John was oblivious. "Maybe if I had a screwdriver...or my _lighter_ back!"

"No, you almost dripped hot metal on my beautiful face de last time." Remy kept his ears open, but heard no more noises from below. "You try and find dat screwdriver, I have to go to de bathroom." Remy left the room before John could fall off the trash can and back into the bedroom.

Downstairs Remy cautiously approached Piotr's bedroom. From the doorway he saw some shadows moving around but the minute he stepped in the room, they were gone. "Piotr?" Remy called as he entered the part of the room unseen from the doorway. No one was there and the outside window was open. Remy figured the intruder had climbed out the window and turned to leave. Then a deep and quiet sneeze came from the closet. In less than a second the closet door was open and a Russian was sprawled on the floor.

"Uh, hello," Piotr said.

Remy gave him a suspicious look. "Why are you in de closet, Petey?"

He lied poorly. "I was looking for, uh, something."

"A hiding spot maybe?" Remy called him outright.

Fear and shame spread over his face and he pleaded urgently to Remy. "_Please_, do not tell John I am here!"

"Tell me what?" The Australian strode into the room with his flame-throwers on his back. "Petey!" John hugged the Russian, "I thought we had lost you! Sabertooth was looking a bit rounder than usual today, and we thought he might have eaten you!"

"Non, only John-boy d'ought dat," Remy piped in. "Couldn' find any matches so you went for your flame thrower?"

"You know me too well Remy," John grinned.

The Cajun's eyes grew wide. "You have no idea how much dat scares me." He then turned to his other teammate. "So, what's going on Petey?"

Piotr shifted his weight back and forth. "I, uh, had a special mission today -" Then turned to John and burst out. "I did not know! He had me carry her to the training room then he locked the door and told me to move crates. And it smells bad!" He then switched to Russian, which was gibberish to John and Remy.

"Piotr!" Remy yelled. Piotr stopped talking. "Again, English dis time."

He took a deep breath and started again. "Magneto came to me before John returned and asked me to go to the mountain. There was an intruder there and to bring the intruder to the training room. It was Wanda!"

"Wanda! Magneto has Wanda!" John exclaimed. "She wasn't suppose to get caught. I gave her the ski lift so she could find the place and end our misery, not to get caught!"

"What?" Remy had two babbling teammates to contend with now.

"Mags was so freaked out that I would lose the ski lift pass and someone would find the base that I thought I should." John turned and ran out the door. "I have to go help her!"

Remy has known men like Erik Lensherr. Opportunities like this don't fall in their laps, they make them happen. They plan their moves out in advance; they are great at chess. Remy put his hand on John's shoulder. "Magneto fooled you, mon ami. He knew you would lead Wanda here from de beginning."

"Why are you stopping me then!" John wrenched his body away from Remy and ran down the hallway.

"He'll be expecting you!" Remy called after him. He looked at Piotr and sighed. They ran after their fire obsessed teammate.

* * *

Blotches of color and light unfolded before her eyes. She felt the cold metal chair through her clothes and metal casings around her hands. Wanda sensed someone else in the room, but her head was just as cloudy as her vision. When the man spoke, she had no doubt who it was. She would recognize that voice until the end of time. It belonged to someone who supposedly loved her but he abandoned and neglected her instead. She tried to wiggle out of her seat, but it was no use. She settled for a steady scowl at the man pacing in front of her.

". . .I had expected Pyro's trail of clues would lead you here. It is so funny," Wanda's father mused, "you claim to hate and distrust me, but you take my word over his. I never ordered him to keep track of you. And today, I made him think he was leading you here without my knowledge, but I was the one manipulating him."

The Witch's eyes grew wide at her father's revelation. _John had been telling me the truth the whole time. I was so easy to believe he would betray me. That I meant nothing to him. But he was just a pawn in all of this. I am the real betrayer_.

Magneto continued his conversation, "It's time for us to talk, father to daughter." He leaned on the arms of the chair Wanda was sitting in.

Wanda sneered. "About John? You're a bit late to have any say in my boyfriends."

"No, no." Magneto waved his hand around to dismiss the matter. Wanda remained silent, waiting for her father to continue his tirade. After a few minutes he sighed and hung his head. "Wanda, leaving you in that hospital was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. I know it must have been hard on you -"

"Save it," the captive shot.

Her father desperately tried again. "Please understand. It was for your own good. I -"

Again she interrupted. "You _never_ cared about me! Only about yourself!" She closed her eyes, sick of looking at her father. "I was just something else in your way."

Magneto's expression remained sincere. "Wanda, I had hoped we could start building a new relationship."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding. Not in _this_ lifetime."

The Scarlet Witch expected her father to retort or get angry and yell, but instead he his face remained stoic. "I see," he said as he stood up. "Unfortunate."

A crash from the shadowed edges of the room turned Magneto's head. Colossus knocked in the door, with Gambit and Pyro right behind him.

"What are you idiots doing!" Magneto yelled at his minions.

"Saving Wanda!" John courageously yelled.

Magneto rolled his eyes. "All in the name of love I suppose." John charged, but his friends hesitated. Magneto waved his hand and some random chains that were lying around flew over and wrapped themselves around Pyro's body; he fell to the ground. Magneto used his powers to drag him back to his teammates. "You two were smart not to attack. You know you both have too much to lose if go against me. Pyro does too, although he doesn't know it." Magneto dropped the mutineer. "Keep him under control or you will all lose."

Remy looked down at Pyro. "I'm sorry, John." Never looking at his face, Piotr helped him up and kept a tight grip onto his arm. With nothing else to do, they stood back and watched.

"Now where was I?" Magneto thought then gestured for his helmet. "Oh yes, the fact is Wanda, your single minded quest to eliminate me has become a serious liability. In more ways than one." The boss man gestured to his lackeys. "And since I can't secure your cooperation voluntarily, I will do it by other means." Magneto opens the metal door to the locker room to reveal a sober Jason Wyndgard aka Mastermind. His eyes began to glow.

"Mastermind here will delve into your memories and alter them," Magneto stated. Wanda's eyes grew wide.

Pyro tried to move forward in rebellion but Piotr's grip tightened. "I am so very sorry, but my family is in danger." John sulked back in line with them. He couldn't think of anything to do alone; he was not one with a gift for strategy. He needed his friends behind him, but they had other worries greater to them than what happened to his ex-girlfriend.

"Hopefully, your mind won't be too damaged by the process," were the last words Wanda Maximoff, the vengeful Scarlet Witch, heard in this life.

* * *

"How many rooms do they got in this place?" Todd as "Eric" whispered urgently to Kurt Wagner. They had been bounding about for at least twenty minutes trying to find where Wanda was taken. They were almost spotted by Pyro and Gambit while they were searching the base for Colossus. The two rescuers had found Colossus stacking crates before his own teammates located him. They were almost spotted, but Nightcrawler's sulfuric teleporting saved them from being discovered.

"Why didn't Magneto buy a huge place like this for the Brotherhood to live in instead of that rat hole?" Toad complained more.

"Vill you shut-up already? I agreed to help you rescue Vanda, not listen to your vhining," Nightcrawler broke. "How do I get myself into these messes?" he asked himself.

"Where is she?" Toad wondered. Then then heard some ruckus from a large room down the hallway. Nightcrawler grabbed Toad's hand and bamfed. They appeared in a large room. The two quickly ducked behind some metal columns and took in the scene. They saw Wanda in a chair with some monkey man standing across from her.

Mastermind shook his head and put his hands to his temples. "Magneto, you have intruders." He stood up and turned around only to see a slime ball spit at his face.

* * *

Magneto dropped his cup of coffee when he received the telepathic message from Mastermind. _Mid-terrifying lecture and I get uninvited house guests_. "There are intruders in the training room, I suggest you come and help me get rid of them." Magneto left the war room and hovered down the corridor to the training room.

Gambit and Colossus got up to follow him, but Pyro just sunk down farther in his chair. "I'm not running after a man with a few Kangaroos loose in the top paddock. I'm done, stick a fork in me," John declared.

_John has to come. Magneto will get rid of him if he doesn'. If he is willing to screw wit' his own daughter's mind 'cause she was in his way, what will he do to John? As long as John does the job, he'll keep 'em around. I've got to convince him to come with us. _Remy sat down next to the pyromaniac. "If you don', Magneto will."

"I don't care," he said.

"Maybe, but Wanda does," Remy reasoned. "Petey and I might not be able help you, but d'ese 'intruders' might." Remy lead John on to get him moving. _If d'ese people could get into da training room dis quickly, d'ey will be gone by de time we get d'ere. But if dis gets John d'ere wit' us, Magneto will d'ink dat he still has sway wit' him. And dat illusion is all dat matters._

As Remy had hoped, John looked up at his friend with a new hope in his eyes. "Well, what are we waiting for? Stampeding puppies?"

* * *

After removing the slime, Mastermind tried charging Nightcrawler, who simply jumped over him. Meanwhile Toad tried desperately to free the Scarlet Witch. "Hurry up, vill you?" Nightcrawler called to Toad.

"Hey, I skipped this day in hero class, okay? You got a better idea?" the Brotherhood member retorted.

Nightcrawler grabbed a hold of the Witch and impatiently teleported her out of her restraints to reappear next to Toad, who still looked like Eric the ski instructor. "Just that." Nightcrawler placed the unconscious Witch in Toad's open arms.

Magneto and the rest of his goons burst into the room. "Time for the 'get out of town' express," Toad remarks as Nightcrawler grabbed a hold of them to teleport away.

* * *

Just as the Acolytes burst into the room, Wanda and the two intruders disappeared in a brimstone smoke. _It's over. Wanda's gone. What will I do now_? John wondered as he stood around awkwardly with Gambit and Colossus. _I'll follow them. But where did they go?_ John moved toward the door, planning to find them outside the base.

"Wait," Magneto's voice echoed in the room, stopping John in his tracks. The master of magnetism turned to Mastermind/ "Did you finish the job?"

Jason rubbed the back of his head to stall as he considered how to answer. "Yes." _I can't believe I even considered telling him anything else. And it's not like is isn't mostly true._

"Then we let them go." Magneto turned to three younger Acolytes. "Glad to see you came, Pyro. Wise decision. I'm glad you are able to see the big picture," the boss said before exiting dramatically.

John sank to the floor and put his head in his hands. Sensing that he needed some alone time, Remy, Piotr, and Jason filed out of the training room.

* * *

Her head pounding was the first thing Wanda felt when she started to wake up. Tingles went up and down her limbs as she started to feel them again. She groaned. Light burned her eyes as she opened them, but that pain was forgotten for a second when the Swiss ski instructor's beautiful face came into view. _He must have rescued me from... from what?_ Her head pounded harder. She felt Eric's face move closer to hers, but she didn't feel like fighting it. They kissed. The kiss was passionate but sloppy and tasted foul. _What did this guy eat today? A dead skunk? He needs a mentos or something._ She opened her eyes and saw that Eric was not Eric at all but Todd!

"Toad!" she screamed and jumped out of his arms, pushing him away. She saw that the X-man Nightcrawler was in the room as well. She turned to him and shook her fist threateningly. "Get me outta here!"

The look on Todd's face would have broke anyone's heart, assuming that they had one. The Scarlet Witch put her hands to her hips and glared down at him. Appalled at the trick and the kiss.

Kurt butted in. "You know, he's a slimy vorm, but he DID put his life on the line for you."

Todd looked up at Wanda, his eyes on the verge of tears. Wanda closed her eyes to shut out that look, sighed, and said, "Thank you."

The "thank you" gave Todd all new hopes and dreams as well as resupplying him with energy. He felt hungry. So when a fly buzzed around his head, he shot his long tongue out of his mouth and caught it. Wanda, newly disgusted and embarrassed, covered her eyes with her hand and stormed out of the room. Kurt turned and shrugged at Todd, who groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I'm my own worst enemy," he realized.

* * *

Remy knocked before entering the pyromaniac's room.

"The land of Wampoo has closed its doors to immigrants," John yelled from inside.

The Cajun opened the door anyway. "Good d'ing I have a visa, no?" His friend's room looked like a tornado had hit. Things were tossed all over. Currently John was haphazardly stuffing clothes into a disheveled duffel bag.

"You do not," John said without looking up.

"I do too," Remy argued. "It's not my visa, but I do have one." He pulled out some papers from one of the many pockets of his trench coat. "See, it's Petey's."

John refused to look at him. "I'm not talking to you."

"Sure you're not." Remy sat down on the most together part of the bed. "Leavin'?"

"What was your first clue?" the Aussie said curtly. He pulled out some items from his dresser and shoved them into his bursting bag.

"What's de plan?" Remy asked in a calming tone.

"Why do you care?" John still felt the sting of betrayal from earlier.

"I'm sorry 'bout before, John," Remy told him sincerely. "I'm sorry all dis happened. D'ings were just startin' to get good again . . ." The Cajun's apology was cut short when John shoved a dirty sock in his mouth.

Remy spit out the sock and tried to clean the stench from his tongue. John continued to ignore him as he pulled out a large box and started to pack up his candles.

"Since you don' want to hear any apologies or nothin', let me get straight to de point." Remy stood up, not sure how much longer John would tolerate his presence in the same room. He could feel the tension in the room rising and figured that he was about to blow. "I understand why you're leavin', I d'ink it's 'bout time, but I don' want you to go off all half-cocked and do somed'ing stupid, like try and attack Magneto."

"I won't. I don't have a death wish," the Aussie seriously reassured him. He knew it would be suicide to try and face Magneto alone. Especially on his ground with his minions behind him. Besides, on principal he always tried to avoid vengence and grudges. He doesn't like to dwell too much on the past he can't change. He'll prank people who wrong him, because he feels that is constructive and destructive and a fun outlet for his anger, but he has never really wished or plotted for horrible harm to come to someone.

But despite his distaste for revenge, he really did wanted to hurt the man. _Maybe someday I can lure him into a plastic bubble full of pure oxygen. Or maybe a hydrogen filled wooden blimp. Or hot air balloon. I'll sit on some mountain a couple miles away with a video camera, launch a couple fireballs, then laugh and have lunch. Vegemite sandwiches of course._

After a half a minute of silence, John noticed that Remy was still sitting on his bed looking at him. He realized that in order to get rid of his soon-to-be ex-teammate he would have to tell him his entire course of action. "I'm stealing the car, going to go pick up Wanda, and then get as far away from her crazy father as possible."

"How are you gonna convince her to go wit' you? She likes her daddy now," Remy asked to get him to think more about his plan. Then he added, "You don' know what all Mastermind did to her head."

"I'll tell her what happened," John told Remy. "She'll believe me. She knows now that I wasn't lying to her before. If she doesn't, I could always find one of the X-geeks that came to rescue her. She'd have to believe me then. Those X-geeks drink truth serum with their breakfast."

"When you leavin'?"

"As soon as I'm done packing," he told him.

"Do me one last favor," Remy requested, "Wait until morning."

For the first time (aside from the sock), John looked at the other man in the room. "Why should I?"

"You'll get more o' a head start," Remy tried to convince him of his better plan. "Wit' Wanda wit' you, Magneto is sure to send someone after you. If you leave tonight, Mags will know you mean to leave fo' good and send someone after you two. If you leave tomorrow mornin', he might d'ink you've calmed down. Say you're goin' out fo' donuts or somed'ing. Toss all your stuff out de window and get it on de way out."

There was silence in the room as John considered Remy's plan. He looked at the red eyed mutant with scrutiny. "Is there some other reason you're not telling me about? Like when you got me to follow Bucket Head earlier?"

"No." Remy looked him straight in the eye and told him truthfully. "I d'ink dat fo' your plan to work, you have to leave in de mornin'." Remy stood up and headed for the door. Just before he left he turned and said, "Whatever you decide, I'll cover fo' you as long as I can. Bye, John-boy. Good luck." With that, the door to Wampoo shut.

* * *

The next day, the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House was in its usual form of decrepitude with cracked walls, dirty clothes and Chinese take out left out on about every piece of furniture. Wanda and Todd were being surprisingly civil as they straightened up the living room. Wanda pulled a book from the bookshelf and looked at the cover.

Todd leaning up against the bookshelf scratched his head, "Okay, okay. Let me get this straight." He continued to talk as Wanda put the book in a box on the floor. "You mean, you're _not_ mad at your father no more?"

She shrugged. "Not really." She looked up at Todd with her crystal blue eyes. "I know I was once, but its funny. I just can't seem to remember why. It's all a blur." She went back to sorting books.

Todd slapped his forehead with his hand. "Man, they really did a number on your head. Well, let me enlighten you, snookums. Uh, see, when you were . . .aehah!" Todd screamed as Pietro Maximoff grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and zipped him into the kitchen.

The speedy Maximoff glared at the boy. "Are you nuts! Why do you want to start that again?" He gestured into the living room where Wanda was still looking at books.

"Hey, I was just -" Todd started before being interrupted.

"Look, she's a lot happier with all those memories gone." Pietro glanced in the other room. "Well, maybe not happy, but at least she's not angry. Which means, she'll stop looking for Magneto. Which means she'll stick around _here_." He paused then added when he noticed Todd didn't yet understand his meaning. "Near _you_."

He finally got it. Todd glanced back in the room, then smiled at Pietro. He chuckled. "You got a point. Okay, I'll keep my mouth shut." He started to head back into the living room. Just before he entered the other room he turned to make one last comment, "Besides, if she can get over hatin' her father, then there's hope for me yet." He grinned his cheesy, hopelessly romantic grin. The one where hearts would appear around his head if this were any other cartoon. He finished hoping back into the other room.

After Todd turned his attention back to Wanda, Pietro breathed a sigh of relief, then shuddered. _At least it is easy to keep Toad at bay. Playing at his possibilities to get with Wanda was a sure shot, even though the thought disgusts me. Thank god Wanda will never look at Toad that way._ He took a quick glance into the living room where the pair was still being civil. He frowned, _At least I hope he didn't screw with her mind that much_.

There was a knock at the front door. Todd hopped from the living room to the entry way to answer it.

"Outta my way, Cane Toad." St. John pushed the boy aside and walked in. "Wanda!" he called.

At the sound of her name she got up and walked to the entry way. She didn't say anything.

"I'm glad you're all right!" John exclaimed and grabbed her upper arms.

She jumped and backed up, throwing his arms off of her. "Excuse me?"

"Don't be like that, luv," he said, taking a step closer.

"Get away!" she hexed him across the entry. He landed on three UPS packages. She looked at him questionably. "Who are you?"

"What do you mean?" John was now confused. "I'm St. John, Pyro, John-boy -"

Wanda recognized one of the names. "Pyro." She realized who it was. "You work for my father, don't you? Does he have a message for me?"

John stood up and looked her in the eyes. Those icy orbs that were once full of life and passion were now dull and limp. _She doesn't remember me_, his eyes grew wide and his mouth gapped open. Wanda raised an eyebrow to him and crossed her arms after he didn't answer her. "Well?"

John closed his mouth, but he was still speechless. He couldn't believe this was happening. She had no memory of him. The bastard Magneto not only screwed with her memories about the asylum, but he had erased probably every single memory she had had of him. It was gone. Everything.

"Is he having some sort of fit?" Wanda turned to Todd who was just regaining his senses from being shoved onto the floor.

"Uh, no," John covered. "I do have a message from Magneto. . . " John had to think of something quick. "Klaatu barada nikto." (3)

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Uh, eat your vegetables." He then turned to leave; he couldn't stand looking at her anymore.

"Wait!" she called from the doorway when he was halfway down the walk. His heart skipped a beat, _She does remember!_ He ran back to the house as fast as his feet could carry him. But when he got to the door, one look into her eyes dispelled his hope: they were just as lifeless as they had been before. "St. John _Allerdyce_?" she asked with three boxes in her arms. All John could do was nod. "These have your name on them." She handed him the cases of vegemite she didn't remember picking up at the old base. "I'm sorry, I think Freddy got into one of them."

"That's okay," John mumbled as he looked down at the boxes in his arms.

Wanda stood there awkwardly on the doorstop for a minute. "Do you have to watch me eat my vegetables?"

John's eyes remained on his Vegemite. "Uh, no."

"Are you communing with the front stoop?"

"Yes, it misses the petunias."

_Now it's official. This guy is completely nuts_. "Did my father find you in an asylum?" _Asylum_, that word made her shiver, but she didn't know why.

"I prefer the term 'loony bin,'" he joked, but she didn't get it.

Wanda was getting a headache talking to this guy, so she decided to finish it. "I'm going to shut the door now. I don't recommend talking to it, because all it does is complain about the weather." John didn't make a move, which made Wanda nervous. She shifted her weight. "Bye, have a good day," she emotionlessly recited before shutting the door.

John looked up at the closed door one last time before sulking off to his stolen vehicle with his vegemite.

* * *

(1) See Chapter 19 – So, What's the Verdict?

(2) See Chapter 17 - And you got that from potatoes?

(3) Famous three words from the classic _The Day the Earth Stood Still_. Made fun of in many other movies such as "Army of Darkness."


	23. Epilogue: Part III

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

**A/N:** After finishing the last part I realized that I wanted to tell you some stuff that I couldn't casually fit into the next story. So here is part three of the longest epilogue ever.

Thanks Skysong for editing!

* * *

**Epilogue to Nine to Five: The Toad, the Witch, and the Burning Wardrobe, Part III**

A man in a trench coat egged a motorcycle up the dirt road to Bayville's infamous lookout point. The wooded road gave way to a large clearing overlooking Bayville. The non-descript town actually looked pretty as the sun was setting to the west. The extra heat and smoke in the air made the sunset more expansive and colorful than usual.

Being a school night and still fairly early, there were only two cars there. One was a Lexus that was rocking and the windows were all fogged up. Remy LeBeau shook his head, although he was in no place to judge. He had done similar things before. _Probably won't even remember de girl's name tomorrow_, he guessed about the boy in the car.

The other vehicle was a familiar one - black with a makeshift sunroof and Mardi Gras beads. Remy turned off the engine of Piotr's motorcycle and dismounted. He cautiously approached the front of the vehicle. It was parked in a prime spot overlooking the city. On the roof of the car lain St. John Allerdyce. He was staring out at the city with a half-drunk bottle of scotch in his hand. He was specifically watching the place where Vinyl Vintage had stood last week. Now it was only steel beams and cold ashes.

Remy cleared his throat so John would notice his presence. It worked, and John's head bobbed down and to his left to see his friend Remy.

"Remy!" he shouted excitedly. "Glad you could make it to the party. I burnt all the invitations earlier, so I didn't come anyone would think."

Remy was amazed at how drunk the Aussie was, and that he was not throwing up all over the place. One of life's mysteries presented itself: _How in de world did he drive up here in one piece?_

John twisted his body towards the Cajun and held out his hand with the bottle of scotch in it. "Wanna drink?"

Remy put up his hand. "Non, I d'ink I'll pass."

John fell back into his previous position. "Yeah, I am pissed (1)," the Aussie said, misunderstanding Remy. "You want something else?" John turned over to his other side and grabbed a brown grocery bag. He spoke into the sack. "I got gin, tequila, and whiskey." He then lifted out the bottle of Jose and stared at the drop left at the bottom. "Forget the tequila." He tossed the empty bottle to the ground, where it clanked against an empty pint of raspberry vodka.

Remy wondered how the nineteen year old got a hold of so many bottles of booze. "Where did you get all dat?"

"I flirted with a Republican!" John announced. Remy wasn't sure if that was an answer to his question, or if John was randomly spitting out whatever popped in his head. "I don't much think he liked me much," the wasted boy added.

Remy had no idea where to begin with the plastered mutant. His thoughtful silence was filled with John's ramblings: "Did you know that Guns 'N Roses were mutants?" Remy looked at him funny, then noticed that there was a Guns 'N Roses song on repeat coming from the car's stereo. "They musta been time travelers or those people that see the future, prehogs or something. They got together, then traveled to the future, saw my story and wrote a song about it."

Remy recognized the song as "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory" off their Spaghetti Incident album, which he owned. "Guns 'N Roses weren't mutants."

"Whadoya mean? They even sing the song to me. They say, 'This one's for you Johnny,'" John argued and gestured with his arm holding the scotch for affect.

"Guns 'N Roses didn' even write de song. Johnny Thunders did." Remy explained about the Spaghetti Incident being a cover album.

John's fuzzy mind couldn't grasp the concept. "But how could Johnny Thunders know 'bout me if Guns 'N Roses are the time travelers?"

Remy gave up on explaining things. He was going to handle one problem first. He opened the door to the car and reached over to stop repeating the song. He put his hand on the seat to lean on as he reached. His hand became moist, and Remy made the most disgusting face ever, imagining why the driver's seat was wet. He lifted his hand to his face and smelled. _It don' smell like piss._ Remy asked John out of curiosity. "John, why is de seat wet?"

"The snow, the snow," John sung as he waved his arms about. "The snow is against me. Mardi Gras couldn't stop it. It came, and it conquered. Veni. Video, Vichi. (2)"

Somehow from the ramblings, Remy satisfied himself with the explanation that the snow from the ski base came in from the sun roof and melted on the interior. This time Remy hopped in the driver's seat to switch the CD player off repeat. While doing so, he noticed a few CD cases on the passenger seat. They were very familiar.

"John!" he shouted from inside the vehicle. "Dis is my Guns 'N Roses CD! You were goin' to make off with my Guns 'N Roses! And my Rolling Stones!!"

The angry Cajun leapt out of the car and took a few quick steps to the front. The inebriated Aussie knew he was in trouble and rolled off the roof to the passenger side of the automobile, grabbing his bag of booze with his free hand. He managed to right himself onto his feet. He took two running steps straight, the next one crossed over his left leg. His right leg tried to compensate for the shift, but he only ended up running sideways until he fell down and rolled over.

Remy walked over to St. John and leaned over him. "I'd kick your ass if you weren' already doin' such a good job yourself." Feeling bad about the patheticness of a drunken John, Remy offered him his hand. John put down the bag of booze and reached for Remy's hand. It only took him two tries to get it.

After helping him up, Remy finally got a good look at what John was wearing. Instead of the faded jeans, Invader Zim tee, and jean jacket he had left the base in, he was wearing neat-looking khaki cargo pants, a turquoise striped polo, and, to top it off, he had an enormous belt buckle with an alligator on it.

"John-boy," Remy grunted, as he let John lean on him to get him back to the car. "What de hell are you wearin'?"

John smiled drunkenly at him. "The fire pixie got them for me! She insisted. And you can't say no to a fire pixie! That's bad for the fire karma. I even kissed her, but she wasn't very good at it."

Remy slapped his forehead to rid himself of all of the inanimate objects he imagined the drunken John macking on. "I'm sorry I asked."

John stopped smiling when they made it to the passenger side of the vehicle. "They're kinda ichy." He frowned. Remy leaned him up against the back door while he opened the front. "How did you find me? I burnt the invitations. . ."

Remy tried to help the boy into the passenger seat. "I figured it was you who set fire to the Starmucks -"

"How'd ya know?" John smiled with mock shyness. His foot slipped off the step, and he fell on top of Remy.

The Cajun pushed him off. "I d'ink it was da sixty foot Stay Puff Marshmallow Man o' fire walkin' down Mission Street dat gave you away." John giggled proudly. "I know how you like to watch your fires, and I figured dis was de best spot. And it was 'bout the only place you could possibly launch fireballs from and hit de base on Mount Ararose. Nothin' caught -"

"Yeah, those jiffy poppers only burn from the bottom burn. Burn, burn, burn," John interrupted.

Remy continued, "But de melted snow flooded de place, so dere was still a good amount of destruction. Mostly Magneto's stuff. De rest of us had our stuff on de movin' truck already. Waterlogged all his etch-a-sketch stuff. He was fumin'."

"Good."

"And you blew up Sabertooth's bike."

"Was he on it?"

"No. Every cop in de city is lookin' fo' you." Remy changed the subject and stood up. "But don' worry. Petey an' I got you covered. We phoned in some 'tips' to keep dem busy. Petey does a very good impression of an old cranky immigrant woman, by de way. D'ought dere would be some trouble wit' de X-men, but Petey says d'ey been havin' d'eir own problems. So, what happened today?" The sober one again helped the drunk one off the ground.

"You know what. Wanda didn't know me anymore." John grew sad. "These last couple weeks went poof." John, who had lost his bottle of scotch by now, illustrated his story with drastic hand motions. "And you never, never get in a car with a stranger, Remy. Never." He shook his finger at the Cajun. "Not even if they have candy. Not even for Cadbury." (3)

"So what are you gonna do now?" he asked. "I mean, after you sleep dis off."

John shrugged. "Can't go back to Oz. They want to put me in jail. I don't like all the bars; they are cold, so cold." He faked a shiver.

"Dey want to put you in jail here too, mon ami," Remy informed his friend and tried to help in into the car.

"But they don't know it was me that started the fire." He started to sing the chorus of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" loudly and off key. At "light it," he slipped out of the car and to the ground again.

"I d'ink de exclusive interview wit' WBTV gave you away," Remy reminded the drunkard.

John looked up with a glazed look. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that." He giggled. "That reporter was cute. I couldn't say no. It would be like Nick Nalyor turning down Katie Holmes. (4)"

"So I can't stay here, can't go home; Canada is too bloody cold. . . how 'bout Mexico?" John suggested. "I don't have any more dinero."

Remy tossed him a wad of cash. John picked it up and examined it like it was an alien artifact. When he raised his eyebrow in question, Remy gestured to the steamy Lexus where Ducan Matthews was getting action from his girl of the week. John slipped the wad in his pocket without any further questions.

"So how are you goin' to get to Mexico?" Remy asked and again offered his hand to help his friend up.

"With my feminine wiles," John said with assurance in his voice.

His companion raised an eyebrow. "Feminine wiles?"

"It worked for Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis," John defended. "And I'm ten times cuter in a dress than Jack Lemmon, and he bagged himself a millionaire!" (5)

"So you are goin' to just forget 'bout Wanda an' find yourself a millionaire?" Remy inquired as he was finally able to get John into the passenger seat.

John hung his head low. "No." He shuffled his foot against the floor. "How do you do it, Remy? How'd you forget about Rogue?"

"I didn' forget." Remy reached over John's lap to buckle him in. "I d'ink 'bout her all de time. Her eyes, her stubbornness, her determination, her rare smile, her ass. . . ." Remy was transported back to the days of Vinyl Vintage for a second. Back in the present day, he continued. "But she won' talk to me. Won' return my calls. I don' blame her." He shrugged, then asked John, "What did you see in Wanda, anyway?"

"She had the same sense of mischief as me. We complimented each other. If one of us couldn't think of a way to cause trouble somewhere, we would the other knew. She also had this passion in her eyes that would never go out. Until now." John put his hand on Remy's and bent down to look him in the eye. "The fire was out. I looked in her eyes and her fire was gone. Patwoey. Fineto." John let go of his hand to gesture some more.

Remy interrupted him before he said any more. "But you're goin' to Mexico. You're goin' to give up d'en?"

"I don't want to leave, in case she remembers." John thought for a second. "But if she doesn't, I don't want to start over. I don't know if it would work again. I don't know if I would want it to. I don't think she's the same person."

"I don' d'ink she could've changed dat much," Remy tried to reassure him.

"You didn't see her."

"Do you want to stay or do you want to go?"

John took that question as a cue to start singing The Clash.

Remy talked over John's song. "I know you're plastered, mon ami, but you need to decide what you're doin' so I can figure out where to take you."

"I want Wanda back," he said, looking at his hands. "The real Wanda."

Remy tried to give the boy hope. "Maybe we can convince Jason to put her memories back, at least the ones of you."

"That piker won't piss unless Maggsie says its okay."

"So what's your big plan, d'en?"

"Drink more?"

"I d'ink you've had enough for today." John made a pouty face, but it had no effect. Remy sighed and looked at the ground. "I d'ink I can keep Mags from killin' you if you want to come back wit' me. D'en we can work on Jason. Maybe, if Rogue starts talkin' to me again, we can even go to Xavior 'bout Wanda. Once she's better, d'en you two can run away to Aruba."

". . . Jamaica, ooo, I wanna take ya to Bermuda, Bahamas, come on pretty mama . . . " (6)

"Or I could take you to de train station. And you can get away from all d'is shit forever." Remy wished he could take the second option for himself.

"Living on the run, with Magneto's pet cat tracking me down everywhere I go? Sounds like a carefree life of smiles and sunshine."

"You could always hide out."

"Remy, you know how bad I am at hide and seek."

That he did. If Magneto wanted to, John would be found and punished. Remy wasn't sure what Magneto would do. _Would he just say "good riddance" and wipe his hands clean of John, or would he try and track de boy down to keep him from causin' any more trouble? Keep him under close eye. Dis isn't my decision. _"What do you want to do John?"

"Find Guns 'N Roses."

"What are you goin' to do wit' guns and roses?" Remy forgot that he never did like the answers to his questions.

"Time travel. Never let Maggie trick me in the first place. Tricksy, tricksy fellow. I want to steal his ring and burn it to ash in front of his face." John took out the car lighter and made a fireball. John continued to stare at the fire in silence.

Eventually Remy spoke. "Dat would be a great plan if he were Gollum."

"I know."

"John, I'm runnin' outta time here," Remy told the boy. "Where do you want to go: de train station or back wit' me?"

John swung his head to look at Remy. "Can I burn Jason's pants?"

"Does dat mean you want to come back wit' me and try and get Wanda her memories back?"

The lovesick boy nodded. "What do you think Maggie will do to me if I come back?"

"Don't worry 'bout dat," Remy reassured him. "I got it covered. Just don' go do somethin' stupid and screw up all my charmin'." Remy turned around and looked for the grocery bag John had dropped earlier.

"Remy," John asked with a serious tone when the boy came back with the paper bag of booze, "We're good friends right?" Remy nodded. "If we're such good mates, then why didn't you back me up before? Back at the base before Magneto made scrambled eggs out of Wanda's head. What do you have to lose? I know about Petey's family thing, but not about you."

Remy looked at his friend. "I'll tell you later," he said truthfully. Remy took the liquor out of the bag and put it on the floor of the car. Then he grabbed an empty plastic bag to place the paper one in.

"Why not tell me now?"

"Because you are piss ass drunk," he explained and handed him the make-shift barf bag. "If I tell you now, you won' remember an' wit' all dat's happened, you deserve to know." _Funny, when I met Rogue, I d'ought she would be de one I would confess all dis to first. I started to, but I couldn't tell her all of it. Not yet. Now I'm confessin' to a depressed pyromaniac. _"Let's get you back to de base an' into bed."

"Remy!" John exclaimed. "I, I didn't know you felt that way about me." He giggled hysterically.

"Ha ha," Remy said. "An' Rogue says dat my mind lives in de gutter." He slammed the passenger door.

The Cajun walked around the front of the vehicle to the driver's side. He opened the back door to put the seat down so he could hopefully fit Piotr's motorcycle back there. The back seat was still littered with security tags from Blockmuster videos, wrappers, and pop bottles. But there were a few new items as well.

"John," he addressed the boy strapped into the passenger seat. John's head bobbed up, and he craned his neck to look back at Remy. "What is all de paint for?" Remy pointed to the several open and almost empty cans of black paint on the floor of the back seat.

John looked down at the cans as if he had never seen them before. He tilted his head back up and looked Remy in the eye. "Redecorating?" he guessed.

Remy could tell by the drunken look in his eye that John would probably never remember what he did with the paint, so he let it go. After securing the motorcycle in the back seat, halfway sticking out of the sun roof, Remy hopped in the wet front seat, started it up, and put the vehicle in gear.

The radio was off so John started singing Billy Joel again. Remy reacted by throwing the broken head of the Boris Bobble head at him hitting his inebriated friend in the temple (7). John grew eerily silent, then promptly threw up into the grocery bag. The driver sighed and rolled down the window.

* * *

(1) Pissed is slang for drunk, wasted, inebriated, etc.  
(2) Caesar's original quote, in the latin, "Veni, vidi, vici." : "I came, I saw, I conquered."  
(3) In Australia there are pretty much two chocolate companies: Cadbury and Nestle. This disappointed me greatly when I was craving Hershey's.  
(4) Main character of _Thank you for Smoking_, played by Aaron Eckhart and Katie Holmes played reporter Heather Holloway.  
(5) _Some Like it Hot_. Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis dress in drag to get into an all girl band so they can escape the mob.  
(6) Beach Boys song "Kokomo."  
(7) Boris as in Boris and Natasha from _Rocky and Bullwinkle._

* * *

Stay tuned for the sequel: _November Rain_!


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